


Not A Malfoy Anymore

by brionyjae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Romance, again not too graphic but better safe than sorry, also, not very graphic though, oh and Hermione/Ron is only a side pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 71,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brionyjae/pseuds/brionyjae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius Malfoy escapes from Azkaban, and Draco finds himself having to flee to Surrey of all places! As his life changes dramatically, Draco finds someone there he doesn't expect. Will he survive his particularly eventful holidays? HD Slash.</p><p>Canon-compliant up to OotP, as when I wrote this, HBP hadn't even been released yet! Therefore, Dumbledore is still alive. An AU fic depicting the school holidays between 6th and 7th year.</p><p>Originally posted on FFnet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fight and Flight

**Author's Note:**

> So, as I mentioned, I started writing this way back in 2005 (and completed it in 2008) before HBP had been released. I originally posted it on FFnet, and I've been hesitant to post it here on AO3 because I was *much* younger when I wrote it, and I can't help but cringe a little at some of my past writing skills (or lack thereof!) I like to think I've improved since then.
> 
> However, people still seem to read this on FFnet, so I figured I might as well post it here in case anyone here wants to check it out. I suppose every fic writer starts out somewhere, and this was my start. I could have spent ages editing and rewriting this, but I decided it was probably best to leave it as is. Of course I am proud of it, and it's still the longest fic I've ever finished. And, I'm not sure how exactly, but fanfic in the past just seems different to all the modern stuff out there now. (Wow, now I sound like I'm 90 years old...) So I guess you could call this a retro fanfic ;) At the end of the day, NAMA will always hold a special place in my heart. :)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy all the angst and fluff! xx
> 
> (P.S. This chapter contains a minor character death, right off the bat. Sorry?)

_Chapter 1 – Fight and Flight_

  *** * ***

 Draco was walking through a cold and eerie corridor. If it was not for the torches lit with fire scattered along the walls, the hall would have been pitch black. It reminded Draco of the dungeons at Hogwarts.

Another set of footsteps echoed around the corridor, bouncing off the stone walls and concrete floor. A familiar figure strode up to Draco, and both stopped, facing each other. Harry Potter was standing there, sneering at Draco, when Harry quickly took a step forward.

“I think I know the wrong sort for myself thanks,” Harry said icily, his emerald eyes reflecting his cold mood. The fire in a torch on the wall opposite Draco flickered.

Harry suddenly advanced threateningly on Draco, which caused him to back against the hard wall. And then – Harry had changed into Draco’s father, Lucius. Lucius’ eyes were not much different to Harry’s; they were an empty grey.

Lucius grabbed Draco’s shoulders and shook him so roughly that his vision was blurred. After a few moments he held Draco still, but Lucius left his strong pincer-like grip on the teenager’s shoulders.

“You’re a disgrace to the name Malfoy! You are so pathetic, and haven’t done one thing for me to be proud of! You should try living up to the Slytherin and Malfoy standards for once!” Lucius shouted, spit flying everywhere.

Lucius drew his hand back, and stood poised to slap Draco’s face. Draco flinched, and Lucius’ eyes quickly flamed with anger.

“Malfoys – are – not – weak!” he thundered callously, hitting Draco’s cheeks hard with every word. “When you become a Death Eater, you will be strong!”

Lucius flung Draco sideways, and he felt himself falling… falling…

*** * ***

Draco awoke, sweating and shaking. His blankets were in a heap on the floor, so Draco hauled them up onto his bed. Still shivering almost feverishly, he brought the covers up to his neck and thought back to the dream he had just had.

He’d had dreams about his father telling him that he was to become a Death Eater before (which wasn’t a surprise, since Lucius lectured Draco about it whenever he got the chance), but never before had Harry been in his dreams. Not unless, of course, it included Draco fighting and bickering with Harry. No, in Draco’s dream, Harry had repeated what he had said to Draco on their first train ride to Hogwarts. Why the phrase had suddenly come back to Draco after all this time, was a mystery to him. Another factor was that it had been such a vivid dream.

“Excuse me Master Malfoy, mistress would like to meet with you at half past nine this morning,” said a house elf with a squeaky high-pitched voice, interrupting his musings. Slightly startled, Draco nodded slowly while wondering what in the name of Merlin his mother could want with him. It was very unusual for his mother to come out of her study, let alone request his presence. There must be something wrong.

Half an hour later, Draco walked into the lounge dressed, fully awake and worried. He was greeted with the sight of his mother pale and agitated, sitting on the edge of an expensive leather covered armchair. She had a newspaper lying on her lap. When she noticed Draco, Narcissa beckoned for him to come to her, which he did. Her hands were shaking as she passed _The Daily Prophet_ to him.

As soon as Draco saw the pictures on the front cover, he knew why his mother wasn’t her usual calm, collected self. Spread out across the page, were eleven pictures with names under each one. The headline, which these pictures were displayed beneath, read “Death Eaters Breakout of Azkaban, surely to rejoin their Master.” However, the middle portrait caught Draco’s eye.

Leaning lazily against the frame of the picture, with his long blonde hair perfectly swept, was Lucius Malfoy. He was leering up at them, with a look that made Draco’s heart sink right through the floor. Draco looked up at his mother in half-shock.

“Does this mean –“

“- that your father is going to come back here and try to take us somewhere?” finished Narcissa, biting her elegant bottom lip. “Yes, that is what I suspect he will do. And –“ she gave a tired sigh. “And – your father will probably want you to become a Death Eater.”

“But I don’t want to be a Death Eater,” Draco replied quickly, feeling his insides turn to ice, and his face drain of all colour.

“I know Draco, I know. I’m not going to make you become one. That’s why I’m going to ask you to do something,” Narcissa explained, now looking nervous but determined.

“What mother?” asked Draco, searching her eyes; what was going on?

Narcissa let out a long breath.

“I want you to pack all of your things into your Hogwarts trunk. I’ll shrink it for you, so it will fit in your pocket. Then I’ll set you up a portkey, to send you close to London. I would transport you straight there, but its too risky. Go to London, stay at the Leaky Cauldron, you’ll be safe there.”

At Narcissa’s words, there met a silence so complete, Draco felt quite uncomfortable.

“But – but mother, what about you? I’m not just going to leave you here to face father!” Draco stuttered with an edge of panic to his voice. He couldn’t! There was no knowing what Lucius might do to her. Obviously the same thought was running through his mother’s mind because she quickly spoke.

“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine. I just don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.” Draco must have continued to look doubtful, because she added, “Please do this, for me?”

“If you’re sure,” Draco agreed reluctantly. Narcissa stood up and kissed Draco on the forehead.

“Good boy, now go upstairs quickly and pack.”

Draco hurried up to his room and began throwing things pell-mell into his trunk. In went his elegant quills, and his rolls of parchment. He tossed in all of his clothes, but carefully laid in his prized possession, his broom. Everything he owned was packed into his trunk. Draco had a feeling he wouldn’t be returning to the Manor for a while.

After doing a quick search for any forgotten text books, Draco grabbed his wand and took hold of one handle of his trunk. He dragged it out of his room and down the stairs as fast as he could.

He met his mother in the Entrance Hall of the Manor. Narcissa rushed over to him and quickly muttered a charm, her wand directed at Draco’s trunk. Draco watched as his trunk full of objects shrunk to the size of a cat, and kept shrinking, until finally it resembled the size of a match box. As Draco slipped his minute trunk and wand into his pocket, Narcissa explained.

“As soon as you open your trunk the spell will be lifted and your trunk will grow back to full size. Now Draco, here’s your portkey.” She indicated an aluminium can that was lying up against the wall left of Draco. “It will take you to Surrey. And don’t worry,” she assured Draco. “Surrey’s not far from London.”

Draco nodded, unable to speak. Narcissa looked sadly at Draco before kissing him on both cheeks, then drawing him into a hug.

“Oh Draco, I’ll miss you so much. I’m terribly sorry to make you go, I just want you to get away from your father, and, oh…” a choked sob stopped Narcissa’s desperate mumbles.

“Its okay mother, I’ll be fine,” Draco told her as she dabbed at her cheeks with her white handkerchief.

Both were distracted, however, at the sound of the front door opening. Draco watched, horrified, while eleven figures all wearing masks and dressed in black entered. The person who had entered first ripped off his mask, and Draco barely kept in a gasp.

His father, Lucius Malfoy, was standing there, with a wide smirk on his pointed face.

“Good morning,” drawled Lucius. Draco’s insides froze as his father crossed the Entrance Hall to stand in front of him and Narcissa. Narcissa’s handkerchief had vanished in less than a split second. Lucius’ cronies had all settled in the middle of the hall, which meant to get his portkey, Draco would have to push his way through them all. What on earth was he going to do?

Draco gave his mother a quick sideways glance, and he could tell that she was doing some fast thinking. Narcissa stepped up to Lucius hurriedly and hesitantly embraced him.

“It’s wonderful to have you back darling,” she murmured, letting go of Draco’s father after a few seconds.

“Yes…… _yes_ ,” Lucius said softly, turning to look at Draco. His expression held a sort of hunger in it, and it made Draco feel unnerved.

“So Draco. Are you ready for the great news I’m about to tell you?”

Draco swallowed in reply to his father’s question. The other Death Eaters muttered to each other before turning back to Draco.

“Draco, very shortly I will be taking you to the Dark Lord, and you will get the Dark Mark. You will be a Death Eater at last.” Lucius announced this as though expecting Draco to cheer triumphantly, or at least thank him. On the contrary, Draco felt ready to die.

“Well?!?” snapped Draco’s father. “Show some respect boy!” Draco forced a smile on his face.

“That’s…. great father. It’s just that I don’t think I’m ready to – to become a Death Eater,” Draco said relatively calmly.

“Nonsense, you’ll be fine. It’s just nerves,” boomed Lucius.

“But dear, Draco’s not even of age,” added Narcissa, with a brief look at Draco. Lucius waved his hand dismissively.

“You don’t have to be of age to receive the Dark Mark.”

“But father, I don’t feel –“

“Who’s in charge here?” Lucius interrupted in a deathly tone. His eyes had narrowed dangerously. “If I say you are coming with me to meet the Dark Lord, you will do what I say.”

Draco’s temper, which had been bubbling close to the surface, finally overflowed.

“You don’t get it do you!?!” Draco shouted at his father. With a flicker of satisfaction, Draco saw that Lucius looked taken aback, but only for a moment.

“What do you mean boy?” he replied coolly.

“I – Don’t – Want – To – Be – A – Death – Eater!!” bellowed Draco.

A few gasps came from the gang of Death Eaters, and mutters broke out, but Draco didn’t care. Lucius took a step towards Draco.

“You will do what I say,” he repeated in a very menacing whisper.

“I won’t,” Draco refused, his fear of his father luckily not showing in his voice.

Lucius growled, and Draco heard his mother draw a sharp breath. Out of nowhere Lucius’ fist came flying for Draco’s face, and Draco, caught by surprise, didn’t have time to throw out his hands as he fell to the hard floor. Something cold trickled down Draco’s face, and when some of the liquid came into contact with his lips, he knew it was blood.

Narcissa was screaming, Lucius’ fellow Death Eaters were jeering, and Lucius himself stepped over to where Draco lay and started kicking his body.

Pain shot through Draco’s body, but Lucius did not cease the kicks. One particularly hard kick struck Draco in his stomach. His breath was coming in searing gasps. Draco finally managed to push himself into a sitting position, but was lifted by the scruff of his neck to his feet by his father. He could barely stand for dizziness, and when Lucius’ fist came towards him again, Narcissa ran forwards.

“No, don’t! Stop, stop!” she cried hysterically, taking hold of her husbands arm. But Lucius merely swung her off and pointed his wand to Narcissa.

“Stay out of the way,” he warned her, as Narcissa cowered against the wall.

With a grim expression on his face, Lucius turned back to Draco. He grabbed Draco by the shirt and held him up so that their noses were nearly touching. Draco struggled, trying to free himself, but Lucius just held on tighter.

“You’ll soon wish you never defied me,” he spat softly. Lucius threw Draco from him, and Draco hit the wall opposite his father. He slid down the cold stone; feeling like his ankle had broken as he hit the ground.

Draco looked up at his father with a feeling of extreme bitterness, and saw that Lucius had his wand aiming at him. There was a slight noise to his right, and his mother stepped in front of him, blocking Lucius’ line of attack.

“Get out of the way you stupid woman,” Draco heard his father say.

“I can’t let you hurt our son,” Narcissa replied in a shaking voice.

“Step aside!” Lucius commanded.

“No!” cried Draco’s mother shrilly.

“You leave me no choice then,” Lucius said firmly. “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. There was a flash of green light, and Draco’s mother twisted around horribly, her hair spinning wildly behind her. Draco wasn’t aware of anything apart from Narcissa; her graceful body took an eternity to fall.

Draco was on his feet and shouting, although he couldn’t remember standing up. He didn’t even know what he was saying. Draco couldn’t feel; he couldn’t feel anything except disbelief.

And then, as Draco stood staring at his mother’s dead body just laying there, the sound of laughter laced with malice reached his ears. He looked up and saw the Death Eaters cackling, but no one was laughing louder than Lucius Malfoy.

A terrible rage filled Draco, as though his soul was on fire. He knew what he had to do.

Taking all of the Death Eaters by surprise, Draco thrust himself forwards into them. He was no longer conscious of his injuries; all he cared about was getting to his portkey. Spells whistled past his head, but Draco didn’t stop pushing his way through the crowd. He had to get out of there.

Above the cacophony of the disarray, Draco heard his father cry out an Unforgivable Curse, but Lucius was too late. Draco had closed his fingers around the cool aluminium can, and with the familiar hook behind his navel, Draco disappeared in a rush of colour.


	2. An Unexpected Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny bit of swearing and violence in this chapter. Not too bad though!

_Chapter 2 – An Unexpected Encounter (And Yet Another Fight!)_

*** * ***

Draco had closed his eyes as soon as he touched the aluminium can, but after a minute of spinning, he was feeling slightly sick. So you can imagine how relieved he was when he felt his feet slam into ground. Draco’s hurt ankle gave way, and he fell backwards, letting go of the can at last. Breathing deeply, Draco reluctantly opened his eyes to reality.

The first thing Draco did was take in his surroundings. He was sitting in the middle of a dirty and narrow alleyway, and the sun was shining strongly onto his face. The sky was as blue as Lockhart’s robes once were, with not a cloud in sight.

Draco propped himself up with his hands, and slowly got to his feet. He gingerly tested his ankle, and it wasn’t too bad. He could walk on it, but had to submit to a sharp pain every time it twisted a certain angle. Looking up from his feet, Draco finally thought about what he had to do. His mother had told him….. No, he couldn’t think about his mother; it was too painful.

Shaking his head a little, Draco forced himself to think. He had to go to London, and stay at the Leaky Cauldron. Draco swore and turned to face one end of the alleyway. Where the hell was London from here?

Wincing, Draco started walking to the end of the alleyway. He had to stop and rest a couple of times, but he got there. Draco started to walk down the street, but quickly clutched a fence when a wave of dizziness washed over him. He was never going to make it to London at this rate!

Draco forced himself to stop swaying, and squinted at the street sign. Magnolia Crescent. ‘ _That helps a lot,_ ’ Draco thought sarcastically. He shuffled along the sidewalk, mentally cursing his father for coming home, the reason why Draco had to run away.

When Draco was nearly at the end of Magnolia Crescent, another bout of faintness came over him. This time he stumbled sideways into a bush, and had to bend over, his hands on his knees. Fuck, he felt weak. ‘ _Malfoys – are – not – weak!_ ’ Draco was reminded of the expression his father had yelled at him in his dream. ‘ _Well, fuck you father! I’m never joining you,_ ’ he thought angrily.

Draco took a deep breath and stood up straight. He ran a hand gently through his hair (which felt very matted and messy), and when he brought it away, there was some blood on his fingers. ‘ _Shit, that’s all I need._ ’ Draco forced his injuries out of his mind. He had to get to London.

Draco continued walking, and by the time he reached Magnolia Road, his whole ankle was aching. He kept walking; he couldn’t stop. If he stopped, he probably wouldn’t start again.

Fiercely ignoring his ankle, Draco became aware that he was heading towards a play-park. Luckily, he couldn’t see anyone there. It would be too awkward to answer questions from nosy people. He kept walking, and as he arrived at the play-park, he felt yet another dizzy spell rise over him. Draco rubbed his eyes with his non-bloody hand, while using his other hand to steady himself.

Draco closed his eyes, and realised how tired he was. He had to go on. ‘ _Oh, sod that,_ ’ Draco thought, and finally sank down on a patch of grass opposite a pair of swings.

Why did his father have to escape? Draco had hoped Lucius would rot in Azkaban, so he could start his life over, and not be like his father. Obviously, fate was not going in his favour. Draco covered his face with his hands, biting his lip when he touched his bruised jaw. It wasn’t fair.

He could have stayed in that position all day, but Draco suddenly felt some shadows being cast over him.

“Look what we have here boys, a cry baby.” Draco looked up at the leering voice. Standing in front of him was a gang of gigantic boys, the fattest of them right before Draco. He had blonde hair plastered to his chubby head, and he held a cigarette in his hand. It seemed to have been him who had spoken, because the others were chuckling appreciatively.

‘ _Don’t reply, just ignore him,_ ’ a sensible voice in Draco’s head said. He clenched his teeth, desperately wanting to throw a curse at the overweight boy. He wanted to vent his anger onto someone else. Instead Draco fixed the blonde boy with one of his deathly glares.

“Look, the baby has lost his tongue as well,” mocked the obese blonde boy.

‘ _Don’t do anything, don’t retaliate..._ ’

“Why don’t you run along home to your mummy?”

For the second time that day, Draco lost his temper. He quickly got to his feet, disregarding his ankle.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, you pathetic excuse of a fucking muggle,” he spat at the boy.

Fear and anger crossed the boy’s piggy face. He flicked his cigarette away with practiced ease. He thrust his hand into his pocket and drew out a pocket knife. Draco eyed it warily. He contemplated pulling out his wand, but decided against it. It wouldn’t do for him to get caught by the Ministry of Magic.

He stared at the knife, and suddenly the blonde boy lifted him up by his hair. The boy then brought the knife to Draco’s cheek, and held the metal to his skin.

“You bastard,” he hissed at Draco, and without hesitating, slashed Draco’s cheek with the knife. Draco gasped at the sudden burst of pain. Once, twice, three times the boy cut Draco. The last slash caught Draco’s bottom lip, and he could taste blood trickling into his mouth.

While Draco was spluttering, the boy pocketed the knife, and threw Draco with such force, that Draco hit his head hard on the ground.

The boy started walking slowly but ominously towards Draco. Sighing, Draco closed his eyes. He was going to die. ‘ _Malfoys fight!_ ’ a voice remarkably like Draco’s father said. ‘ _I thought I told you to sod off!_ ’ Draco couldn’t have fought back even if he had wanted to. There was no one left for Draco. His mother was dead; his father wouldn’t want him (Draco wouldn’t have gone back to his father anyway). Hell, he didn’t even have many friends. Crabbe and Goyle were just his bodyguards. Pansy was as annoying as tight shoes are, and Blaise was too quiet and mysterious to engage a proper conversation with. No one cared about Draco.

As Draco was readying himself for death, he thought he heard footsteps, but they didn’t sound heavy, like the blonde boy’s did.

“What the….?” That voice was all too familiar.

Draco’s eyed snapped open. Standing to one side of the blonde boy, who was still approaching Draco, was one of the last people Draco wanted to see right now. Harry Potter.

Harry was stock still, mouth hanging open, and in other words, in complete shock. Draco closed his eyes again, his heart sinking. He was going to die at the hands of the fat boy _and_ Potter. It wasn’t fair. Harry always bet him at everything.

What Draco wasn’t prepared for, however, was for Harry’s voice to speak again.

“Leave him alone Dudley!”

His eyes flicked open for the second time, and this sight was no less surprising than before. Harry was glaring at the fat boy, with a dark scowl etched deep in his face. The boy turned, and looked at Harry.

“What did you say?”

“Surely even someone as stupid as you can understand English. I said, leave him alone Dudley.”

The boy made no signs of movement, so Harry shoved his hand into his jeans pocket, and drew out his wand. The boy named Dudley froze, and his white nostrils widened. His face turned a pasty grey, and opened his mouth. Then he seemed to think better, and turned from Harry. He motioned for his gang to follow, and slowly they trudged away.

Still scowling, Harry pocketed his wand, and faced Draco. The look on his face would stay with Draco forever. His eyes were shining with concern and confusion, and his brow was furrowed in deep thought. It was so unlike the usual hatred, that Draco seriously wondered whether it was actually Potter.

“I think I’ll leave the question ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ until later,” Harry said finally. He cautiously walked up to Draco and knelt down beside him.

“What are you doing here Potter?” Draco mumbled.

“I live here in the holidays Malfoy,” Harry replied with a faint smile on his face. “Can you stand?”

Draco stared at Harry, taken aback.

“What?”

“Can you stand? As in be on your feet, staying upright…”

“I know what you mean you idiot,” Draco snarled. “I meant, why are you asking me that?”

“Because I need to know whether or not you can walk back to my Uncle’s house,” Harry said, sardonically.

“What the hell? You’re meant to hate me! Why should you help me?” Draco was incredulous. This couldn’t be the actual Harry Potter. Someone must have put him under the Imperius curse, or used the Polyjuice Potion, or something.

“Even I wouldn’t let you stay out here in the state you’re in,” Harry said reasonably.

“But –“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever Malfoy. Just swallow your pride and shut up.”

Well, at least that was more like the old Potter he knew.

Before Draco could say any more, Harry had his hands under Draco’s arms, and was gently lifting him to his feet. Draco blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his vision. Harry let go of Draco, and he swayed dangerously. Harry quickly steadied Draco, and pulled Draco’s arm over his shoulder.

“Ok, we’re going to walk back to my Uncle’s house now, just go slowly, I’m here,” Harry said softly, his mouth near to Draco’s ear. Draco felt Harry’s warm breath on his skin, and felt a blush creep over his cheeks. Something quite unrelated to his dizziness was making him feel quite light-headed. He swallowed thickly, and tried to think about the task at hand.

Draco hesitantly took a step, and kept walking gradually along the grass, Harry supporting him. With Harry occasionally whispering words of comfort in Draco’s ear, together they reached Magnolia Crescent.

And then, Draco came to an abrupt halt.

“Wait. I can’t walk anymore. I’m so dizzy.” His legs felt incredibly like jelly, and Draco fell sideways into Harry.

“It’s ok,” Harry said, holding Draco stable. “I’ll…” he paused. “I’ll carry you.” Draco was too weak to protest, so Harry scooped Draco up, holding him under his knees and arms. Feeling ill, Draco closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see anything.

Harry’s muscular arms were holding Draco strongly as he carried him, and for the first time in his life, Draco felt truly secure. Sighing contently, Draco buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry stiffened a little, but quickly relaxed. Draco could smell Harry’s hair; it smelt faintly like blueberries. It smelt so good that Draco took a deep breath, savouring the aroma.

Now Draco normally didn’t have thoughts about smelling another guy’s neck, so he was a bit confused by this. He hurriedly blamed it on his current state of mind, as he _was_ pretty close to blacking out. In the back of his mind, however, was a little voice screaming ‘ _Liar!!! You’re attracted to guys, so why deny it!?!_ ’

Draco shooed this voice away, and concentrated on staying awake. All attempts were in vain. His last thought before he fell unconscious was ‘ _I wonder if Harry’s shampoo is made to help him appear even sexier?_ ’

***** * *** **

Harry angrily kicked an aluminium can down the alleyway in which he was walking. He really did loathe his Uncle. It wasn’t _Harry’s_ fault that Dudley was too lazy to walk and get his dinner from the kitchen. And it certainly wasn’t Harry’s job to get it for him. Stupid Uncle Vernon.

Still fuming, Harry looked up and realised where his feet had taken him. He was at the park just off Magnolia Road. Just ahead of him were Dudley and his gang; he could tell by the sizes of their bodies. They were closing in on a blonde boy, who looked extremely battered, from what Harry could see. His anger enveloping him, Harry strode towards Dudley. He was going to vent his frustration out onto him.

When Harry was about 10 feet away from Dudley, he heard the blonde boy sigh, and he turned to look at him. Then Harry wished he hadn’t.

Draco Malfoy was laying there, with blood streaked down his cheek and bottom lip. His face sported a couple of black and blue bruises, and his ankle was twisted under his other leg an unnatural way. Harry said the first thing that came into his mind.

“What the…?”

Draco opened his eyes, and gaped at the sight of Harry. He was sure that he was gaping at Draco too, but his injuries and unexpected appearance weren’t the only things making Harry stare. For the first time in knowing Draco, Harry could see an emotion other than malice and coldness in his silver eyes. There was pain dancing in them, along with grief and even a glint of hatred in them. But there was no sight of fear. He wasn’t even trembling at the sight of Dudley advancing on him, fists balled tightly.

And then, Draco’s eyes were shut, and Harry saw no more. His shock had evaporated, and his hatred for Dudley was resurfacing.

“Leave him alone Dudley!” Harry turned on his most irate scowl, and directed it at his cousin.

“What did you say?” Dudley stood facing him, flabbergasted.

“Surely even someone as stupid as you can understand English. I said, leave him alone Dudley.” Harry was surprised at his own forcefulness. He had never ordered Dudley around before. Not like this.

Dudley didn’t move, so Harry withdrew his wand from his pocket. For a second, Dudley seemed too stunned to react. His face steadily became paler, and then, he turned and waddled away. His gang seemed surprised, but followed him without protest.

Harry turned to look at Draco, his anger fading at the sight that lay in front of him. Now that he was a bit closer, he saw that Draco had blood seeping down his face, coming from cuts on his cheek and lip. He also noticed that his usually perfect hair was streaked with dried blood, making him look like he’d had an accident with a bottle of hair dye. Unfortunately, Harry could tell this was not the case.

“I think I’ll leave the question ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ until later,” Harry said, trying to break the awkward silence.

“What are you doing here Potter?” Draco mumbled.

“I live here in the holidays Malfoy,” Harry replied. Trust Malfoy to ask a question like that. “Can you stand?”

Draco’s eyes were wide, staring in disbelief.

“What?”

“Can you stand? As in be on your feet, staying upright…” Harry couldn’t help but smirk as he said this.

“I know what you mean you idiot,” Draco snarled. “I meant, why are you asking me that?”

“Because I need to know whether or not you can walk back to my Uncle’s house,” Harry replied, trying not to smile. Draco was rather cute when he was confused and angry. ‘ _Whoa! Why the hell am I having these thoughts about him?!? He’s my arch enemy. That I happen to be helping… uh… yeah, I think I’ll stop thinking about this now._ ’

Harry forced these disturbing feelings away, and concentrated on the job at hand.

“What the hell? You’re meant to hate me! Why should you help me?” Draco yelped, his face showing that he thought this must be unreal.

“Even I wouldn’t let you stay out here in the state you’re in,” Harry said reasonably.

“But –“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever Malfoy. Just swallow your pride and shut up.”

Before Draco could start protesting some more, Harry hurriedly put his hands under the other boy’s arms. He tried not to cause Draco anymore pain. Harry let Draco go, and when Draco nearly fell over, Harry hurriedly held him again. He pulled Draco’s arm over his own shoulder, and spoke to Draco.

“Ok, we’re going to walk back to my Uncle’s house now, just go slowly, I’m here,” Harry said softly, his mouth near to Draco’s ear so he was sure to hear. Draco started moving, and together they walked out of the park. Harry whispered words of encouragement in Draco’s ear every now and then.

And then, when they had just reached Magnolia Crescent, Draco came to a stop.

“Wait. I can’t walk anymore. I’m so dizzy.”

“It’s ok,” Harry said, holding Draco stable. “I’ll…” he paused. “I’ll carry you.” Draco didn’t object, so Harry scooped Draco up, holding him under his knees and arms. He was surprisingly light, not at all the weight of a normal sized teenager.

Harry carried Draco down the sidewalk, hearing a little sigh come from Draco. Draco must have had a hard day.

Stiffening slightly, Harry felt Draco bury his head in the crook of his neck, but Harry relaxed almost immediately. Draco’s platinum hair was soft against his skin and that soothed Harry.

“Draco?” Harry whispered. Draco didn’t seem to be conscious, so Harry kept on walking. He had now reached the alleyway which would take him through to Wisteria Walk.

Harry wondered why Draco was here, in Surrey. Surely he didn’t spend his holidays in a city like this. He had always imagined the Malfoy Manor to be out in the countryside, with huge forests around it. No, there must be a reason for Draco’s appearance in Surrey.

Speeding up slightly, Harry strode briskly down Wisteria Walk, and into Privet Drive. Dudley didn’t seem to be home. He walked up Number Four’s driveway, and paused for a second. He couldn’t hear the Dursleys’ normal chatter, and their car was absent.

The front door was mercifully unlocked, so Harry pushed it open with his foot. He carefully manoeuvred Draco up the stairs, and across the landing. He laid Draco on his own bed, and saw that he was indeed unconscious.

As Harry sat down at his desk, his gut instinct told him that Draco wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. His gut also told him that he was glad Draco was going to have to stay here. Needless to say, Harry ignored the latter.


	3. Lack of a Shirt

_Chapter 3 – Lack of a Shirt (Or of a better chapter title!)_

*** * ***

Draco took a sip of his butterbeer, savouring the warm fire it spread through him. He was sitting at a table, in the Leaky Cauldron’s bar. Music was playing softly, and Draco felt at ease.

Then suddenly, the door to the Leaky Cauldron burst open with a flash of electric blue light. A cold sharp wind blasted through him, the content feeling blowing away with it. In walked a tall, cloaked figure and Draco shrank back into the shadows. His father slammed the door behind him, and started striding towards Draco.

“I knew I’d find you here,” sneered Lucius. “In a filthy, good for nothing pub! Just like you; a good for nothing son. I’m disgusted with you!”

The bitter words hit Draco like a wave slapping against a rock by the sea. Lucius came steadily closer, and Draco drew out his wand. Defiance rose over him, and Draco readied himself for a fight. Then, out of nowhere, Harry Potter came running in front of Lucius, and blocked Draco from him.

“Leave him alone! Go and kiss Voldemort’s boots, that’s all you’re fit to do,” Harry shouted. Lucius’s face was looking daggers, and he raised his wand.

Before he could cry a curse, Harry grabbed Draco’s hand, and forced them both to the floor. Lucius’ spell went awry, and they lay on their stomachs for a moment.

Draco only just heard his father yell at him, “You’re not a Malfoy anymore!”

Harry smiled reassuringly at Draco, and after letting go of his hand, they rolled over as Lucius aimed another spell at them. They kept rolling, over and over…

***** * *** **

Draco received a rude awakening when he fell to the floor from the bed he had been lying on. He groaned, and opened his eyes slightly. He could see a white ceiling, so he reckoned he was inside. Then a face blocked his view of the not-so-interesting ceiling.

“I guess I’m not the only one to have nightmares.”

Harry was standing over him, so Draco hurriedly pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Who said I was having a nightmare?” Draco demanded, his sleepiness evaporating fast. Harry snorted.

“Well, you _were_ tossing and turning, just a _little_ bit. And you _only_ fell of my bed,” Harry smirked, dragging out words, and sounding very satirical.

“What did you say?! I’m in _your_ house?!” Draco raised his eyebrow. “I would have thought the famous Harry Potter would be staying in a better house than this. But then again, you _do_ live with muggles.”

“Through no choice of my own, let me assure you!” Harry said firmly.

There was silence while Harry scrutinised Draco. The latter stood up and withdrew his trunk from his pocket. After setting it on the floor beside him, he opened it, and it grew to its original size. Harry gave Draco a questioning look, but said instead

“You look like shit Malfoy, you really need a shower.” Draco scowled at him.

“I’d only be too happy,” he retorted grumpily. “If you actually show me where the hell it is!”

Harry grinned, and opened his bedroom door.

“It’s through the door on your right. You know how to work a shower, right?”

Draco gave him a ‘ha-ha, very funny’ look before digging out some clothes to wear, and stalking (not as gracefully as he would have liked, owing to his sore ankle) across the landing, and entering the bathroom. Harry, who had followed him, had taken a towel from a linen cupboard, and handed it to Draco through the doorway. Draco then closed the door behind him, and looked around.

If Draco had to describe it in two words, clean and white would be the top of his list. It was a lot smaller than his en suite at the Manor though. Draco dropped his clothes onto the tiled floor in a jumbled mess, and turned to look in the mirror.

He nearly cried out in shock.

He really _did_ look like shit. Blood was streaked through his normally perfect hair, and dried down his face. His jaw was purple by then, and his shirt was ripped.

“Bloody hell,” Draco muttered. He gently undressed, and walked slowly over to the shower. He turned the knob around to quite warm, and stepped under the flow of water.

Warm water cascaded down his back, and Draco gave a short gasp of pain when it met some of his cuts. He ducked his head under the flow, and felt the satisfying effect of blood finally running off his face. He felt clean.

Draco leaned on the shower wall with his eyes closed, enjoying one of the things that was actually part of his normal routine. True, he normally showered a bit later than this (it was only 5pm, after all), and he wasn’t usually covered in blood and bruises, but it would suffice.

Opening his eyes, Draco looked up at the bottles of hair products. In his desire to get in the shower, he had forgotten to get out his own shampoo and conditioner. He spotted some of these in blueberry, and he smiled. It must be Harry’s shampoo. _Well,_ he thought. _Harry let me sleep on his bed, so he surely won’t mind if I use his shampoo._

So Draco picked up the blueberry shampoo, and started putting some through his hair. He sighed contently. This was _much_ better. Then, after washing that off, he applied Harry’s conditioner. The smell of blueberry reached Draco’s nose, and it smelled just like Harry’s hair had smelt.

Draco finished washing himself, being extra careful not to make his cuts sting more than necessary, and turned the shower off. He climbed out, and began to dry himself with the fluffy towel Harry had given him. Draco looked in the mirror once more, and was no happier about his jaw, but at least he had removed the blood from his face and hair.

Bending down to pick up his clothes, he realised he hadn’t brought a shirt in with him. Draco sighed, feeling annoyed, and wrapped his towel around his lower half. He opened the bathroom door, only to bump into…

***** * *** **

Harry stood outside the bathroom, wondering whether to return to his bedroom or not. He decided, he should wait in the hallway in-case Draco needed him.

So Harry lent against the wall opposite the door, and once again wondered why Draco was in Surrey. He noted that Draco had had his trunk shrunken in his pocket, so his journey mustn’t have been a very spur of the moment thing.

Finally, the bathroom door began to open, so Harry pushed himself off the wall to walk back to his bedroom, but before he could go any further, Harry collided with Draco. A very clothe-less (he was only sporting a towel), wet-haired Draco. Both teenagers’ mouths opened in surprise.

“Er….” Harry stuttered, trying to look anywhere other than at Draco’s bare torso, (which was ever so slightly tanned) or at the towel, which originally had been hanging from his hips, and was now slipping down dangerously.

“What are you doing?” gasped Draco, hurriedly grabbing his towel to prevent it falling down any lower. Harry blushed furiously.

“I was waiting here if you needed –“

“Yeah, I need a shirt!! So if you want to be of some help, go and find one in my trunk!” Draco said, flustered. Harry scurried off into his room, and seized a green silk shirt from Draco’s trunk. He saw that his trunk was very messy, as if Draco had thrown everything in hastily.

Stowing that thought away until later, Harry quickly went back to the bathroom and handed Draco his shirt.

“I – I’m sorry, I –“

“Be quiet Potter,” Draco interrupted. The door shut, and Harry kicked himself for being as stupid as to deciding to wait outside the door. He went and sat at his desk, and tried to immerse himself in a Quidditch book. Which turned out to be quite hard.

***** * *** **

When Draco entered Harry’s room a few minutes later, Harry appeared to be absorbed in a book. Draco begged to differ, however; Harry’s eyes were stationary.

“Good book?” Draco smirked as he dumped his dirty clothes into his already messy trunk, facing away from Harry.

“Er – yeah,” he heard Harry say. Draco tried to wipe his smirk off his face as he straightened up and looked at Harry. There was a faint pink colour in Harry’s cheeks, and he looked away at Draco’s glance.

“So, you had your trunk shrunken,” Harry said after a while.

“Point out the obvious,” Draco grinned at Harry. He looked at his fingernails before speaking. “Yeah, I got it shrunken for my journey here,” Draco answered lightly. There was a pause, and then Harry, who sounded as though he was trying to restrain himself, asked

“Why are you here?”

“Because you carried me here,” Draco said, finally turning from his hands and tried to rearrange his face to look innocent.

“Don’t avoid the question, you know perfectly well what I meant,” Harry said sharply. “Why are you in Surrey?”

Abandoning any attempt to be innocent, Draco sighed, and closed his eyes.

“Because my – my mother sent me here.”

“Why though? Why did you have to leave the Manor?”

Draco opened his eyes, and raised his left eyebrow.

“You can’t be serious. Didn’t you see _The Daily Prophet_ today?”

Harry hesitated before answering.

“But, your father escaping, how would that have made you leave the Manor? Or,” Harry suddenly looked anxious. “Or, were you sent out by him to come and capture me, hood-winkle me?”

“No,” Draco said forcefully. “My father wanted me to become a Death Eater, and I had no wish to do so whatsoever!”

Harry looked like he was at a loss of what to say next. A silence fell upon them, during which Draco shut his eyes again, feeling extremely troubled.

“So…. So you’re not in league with Voldemort then?” Harry asked softly.

“No,” Draco whispered. “Especially not after what my father did this morning.”

“What did he do?” Harry said, sounding a little unsure.

There was a long pause, where Draco still didn’t open his eyes.

“He murdered my mother.”

***** * *** **

A shock so complete hit Harry, and he simply gaped at the blonde sitting in front of him. Then Draco’s eyes fluttered open, and Harry saw, for the second time that day, and for the second time in his life, _real_ emotion in Draco’s eyes. There was bitterness, hurt, and an anguished look in them; so unlike anything Harry thought he’d ever see in Draco.

“Draco, I –“

“Potter... just – just shut up. I don’t want to hear you gloating,” Draco cut across Harry. His eyes dropped to the floor, and some damp strands of blonde hair fell over his face.

“I wasn’t going to gloat,” Harry said, slightly hurt. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Draco didn’t reply. He sat motionless on Harry’s bed, so Harry got up and sat next to the blonde.

“Why did you tell that boy to stop beating me up?” Draco’s voice was steady, but quiet.

“Well, he had already nearly knocked you out cold, and besides, it was my cousin beating the hell out of you.”

“Your cousin?” Draco sounded surprised.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to worry anyway. He only cut my face. My father did all the rest.” Draco tried to make his voice casual, but Harry detected resentment in his tone.

“Your father.” Harry paused, trying not to be too harsh. “He doesn’t seem to like you much, does he?”

Draco let out a humourless laugh.

“That would be a light way of putting it. He doesn’t give a damn about me.”

Before Harry could say anything consoling to Draco, the short silence was broken by loud thumps, which sounded like someone walking up the stairs.

“Dudley,” Harry muttered to no one in particular. He left Draco, and hastily opened his bedroom door. He peered down the stairs at Dudley, who looked scared and angry.

“Walk a little louder, why don’t you,” Harry said loudly to Dudley, who had reached the top of the stairs and was panting.

“Shut your face! Mum and Dad are out, and they didn’t even leave a note saying when they’d get back. They didn’t even tell me they were going out,” Dudley snarled at Harry.

“Are you sure? That’s not like them to leave their Diddykins home alone,” Harry grinned, but his thoughts were elsewhere. That _was_ unusual; Harry couldn’t deny it.

“This is serious!” snapped Dudley. Harry ignored him. He walked back into his bedroom, and exchanged a puzzled look with Draco. Where could the Dursleys be?

Before either of them could ponder the matter further, however, all three teenagers heard a noisy knock on the Dursley’s front door.

“Who would that be? Mum and Dad wouldn’t knock. Who is it?” Dudley whined, becoming more high-pitched with every word.

“Shut up you moron!” Harry hissed over his shoulder. He gestured for Draco to follow him, which he did. The three boys walked quietly down the stairs, Dudley bringing up the rear, looking extremely terrified. They all approached the front door, Harry in front. He turned and looked at Draco, who was still pale from their conversation, and looking a little tense.

“What if it’s my father?” Draco asked quietly, obviously trying not to let his voice sound worried.

“Don’t worry. If it is, you’ll be fine. I’m here; of course you’ll be alright.”

Draco cracked a small smile at Harry’s words.

“Ok, I trust you Harry.” Harry realised that Draco had just called him Harry, but he didn’t say anything.

Harry turned back to the door, and opened the door a crack. When he saw who it was, he pulled the door open very quickly. On the doorstep stood none other than Harry and Draco’s ex-professor, Remus Lupin. He was thinner and his hair was greyer than Harry could remember.

“Hello Harry. I hope you’re feeling up to packing your trunk very fast. We’re leaving soon.”


	4. Dustiness is next to… Blushing-ness??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, J.K. Rowling wrote the section in italics!

_Chapter 4: Dustiness is next to… Blushing-ness??_

*** * *  
**

Draco’s mouth literally fell open at the sight of his ex-Professor. Lupin appeared not to have seen Draco yet, and Draco was keen to put that moment of realization off as long as he could.

“Why are we leaving Professor? Where will we be going?” Harry asked, sounding slightly apprehensive. Lupin gave a half-hearted smile.

“We are leaving because Dumbledore wishes you to.” Draco noticed that Lupin deliberately avoided Harry’s other question and it seemed Harry didn’t dare ask again.

“What’s going on?”

Lupin looked up at Dudley’s loud voice, and frowned.

“That reminds me, I need to talk to your Aunt and Uncle, Harry,” Lupin said.

“They’re not here Professor,” Harry replied, moving aside to let Lupin in. Draco sidestepped behind Harry, and Lupin still didn’t see him as he entered the house.

“Well, that’s odd. Dumbledore assured me that they would be home.” After a moments pause, Lupin turned to Harry.

“I think you better go and pack now.” Harry nodded, and walked over to the stairs. It was then that Lupin locked eyes with Draco. A great look of surprise crossed Lupin’s face, and he glanced at Harry enquiringly.

“He is here with my permission, and I insist that he come with us,” Harry said firmly. Draco tried to suppress a smirk when he saw how disbelieving Lupin appeared. He quickly followed Harry up the stairs and into Harry’s room.

While watching Harry scurry around gathering his things, Draco sat down on Harry’s bed.

“What do you think he’s doing here?” Draco asked. Harry paused, holding a pile of textbooks that he had lifted off his desk.

“To be honest, I don’t actually know. I usually have to stay here much longer than this. It’s only two weeks into the holidays after all.” Harry spilt the textbooks into his trunk, and turned back to his desk. There was still a great amount of parchment and quills sitting there.

“Here, I’ll put all that in your trunk,” Draco offered. He felt a bit useless lounging around on the bed, so he stood up. Harry smiled and nodded, and said

“Ok, I’ll get all my things from the bathroom.” Harry left the room, and Draco approached his desk. He collected all Harry’s quills and placed them in the trunk. Draco paused, however, when a folded piece of parchment with curly red writing on it caught his eye. It was addressed to Harry, and signed from Oliver Wood.

‘ _What would Oliver Wood be writing to Harry for?’_ Draco wondered. He began to unfold the letter, but before he could fully open it, Draco heard footsteps near the doorway. He hurriedly stuffed the letter into his pocket, and grabbed some more rolls of parchment off the desk. Draco turned around to see Harry entering the room with his bathroom things.

Harry grinned as Draco quickly put the parchment in the trunk, on top of Harry’s towel.

“Do you like blueberries?” Harry asked, with a sly look on his face. Draco blushed slightly.

“I forgot to take my own shampoo and conditioner in with me, ok!” Draco explained, still embarrassed. Harry smirked, and looked around at his room.

“I’ve got everything. Come on.” Harry shut his trunk (with difficulty), and dragged it out of the room. Draco followed suit, and together they descended the stairs. They were met with the sight of Dudley looking sulky, and Lupin frowning.

“We’re ready,” Harry stated, letting the end of his trunk drop to the floor. Lupin looked at him, and nodded. Draco could feel the lump of parchment in his pocket, and tried to shift slightly to make it less noticeable.

“Yes, well…. I didn’t exactly expect Mr. Malfoy to be here, so we shall have to make a small detour….” Lupin trailed off. Draco glanced at Harry, and bit his lip. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was afraid of where they were going to go.

“What about me? If Mum and Dad _were_ supposed to be home, like you said, they are obviously in trouble, aren’t they?!” Dudley shouted, his eyes bulging.

“I must confess, they were meant to be home now,” Lupin said serenely. “But I doubt they are in danger.” Lupin turned his back on Dudley, and addressed the two teenage wizards in front of him.

“Ok, you both need to be connected with me somehow, because we will be apparating, and I gather that neither of you are quite old enough to have taken your tests yet.” Draco and Harry nodded, and Lupin held out his left arm.

“Right Harry, you hold onto my arm, and Mr. Malfoy, you can hold onto Harry’s arm.” Lupin then gripped Harry’s trunk in his right hand, while Harry held Lupin’s left elbow. Draco hesitantly linked arms with Harry, and his breath caught when he realised how close they were to each other. He looked away, feeling slightly uncomfortable, and took hold of the handle at the end of his own trunk.

Lupin nodded at Dudley, who sent him a glowering look, and counted.

“One…. Two…. Three.”

Screwing up his face at the unpleasant, yet familiar sensation sweeping over him, Draco tightened his hold on Harry’s arm. Harry’s skin was cool against Draco’s, and Draco found himself wishing he could cling onto Harry like that forever. However, luck was not on Draco’s side.

Draco’s feet met ground, and his swollen ankle gave way. He went tumbling into Harry, who apparently had let go of Lupin. His hand got ripped away from his trunk, and it landed on his ever-so-annoying-painful-and-sore ankle! A soft hiss escaped him, and Draco opened his eyes.

They were lying on a very dusty path, which stretched out next to a small creek. Pine trees surrounded them, shielding them from the very late afternoon sun. Draco quickly scrambled off Harry, and they both stood up. Harry’s face was a shade of pink, and Draco was feeling distinctly hot around his neck, but neither of them spoke.

“Follow me please,” Lupin instructed, while walking briskly up the path. Draco looked at Harry, and the latter shrugged. Draco took that as a sign to go after Lupin, so both teenagers seized their trunks, and set off up the path. They had to rush to keep up with Lupin, who seemed to be in a hurry.

After what felt like an hour to Draco, but was really only about quarter of an hour, the dusty trail finally brought them to a series of steps. Lupin started climbing them, so Draco and Harry heaved their trunks up the steps. They reached the top, and Draco, who was panting, stopped for a rest, and to look at the place they had arrived.

A little cottage sat in front of them, which was surrounded by plants and beautiful green grass. The cottage looked old, but friendly, and a tiny puff of smoke was issuing from the chimney, even though it was summer.

Lupin walked out across the grass, and started headed for a door, so Draco followed. He then waited for Harry and Draco to catch up to him before opening the door. They all entered, and Harry moved closer to Draco as though nervous.

A young woman with bright blue hair, which reached her shoulders, was sitting in a squashy armchair reading the _Witch Weekly_ magazine, and there were flames dancing in the fireplace next to her. In this small room also stood a cabinet, and a purple rug lay on the floor.

“Remus! I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” The blue haired woman stood up, and surveyed them. “Whotcher Harry. You’re thinner than when I last saw you.” Harry smiled weakly, as Lupin started busying himself around the fireplace.

“Hi Tonks. Tonks, this is Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is Tonks.” The woman gave Draco a curious look, and Draco avoided her eye.

“I wasn’t expecting to be home so soon either,” Lupin said while drawing his hand out of a small bag. He threw some powder into the fire, and the flames instantly turned emerald. “Number Twelve Grimmauld Place,” he cried once his head was in the fire.

Draco turned to Harry, and was about to ask him what Lupin had said, but the words died on his lips at the look on Harry’s face. His jaw seemed frozen, and his eyes were strangely un-focused. He looked as if he was lost in a memory. A particularly horrible memory.

***** * *** **

As soon as Lupin had said those four words, Harry had been jerked into a horrible memory. All summer Harry had ignored it, pushed it away whenever his mind strayed down that path. This time, however, it was unavoidable.

_“Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room._

_A second jet of light hit him in the chest, and his eyes widened in shock. Harry jumped down the steps in a trance, and pulled out his wand._

_Sirius’ body seemed to take an eternity to fall. His body curved gracefully, and sank through the ragged veil hanging from the arch._

_Harry would never forget the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather’s face. He looked like a broken angel._

_“Sirius!” Harry yelled. “SIRIUS!”_

_He had reached the floor, so close to the arch…_

_Lupin’s arm shot out and grabbed him around the chest._

_“There’s nothing you can do, Harry … nothing … he’s gone.”_

“Harry!” Draco’s face swam into view; his vision was blurred, but he knew it was Draco by the platinum blonde colour. He felt himself being led to sit down on a chair, and he blinked several times. He concentrated on trying to see Draco.

Draco placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, and the contact seemed to clear his eyesight. He could now see Draco, and his silver eyes were searching him worriedly, looking utterly confused and alarmed.

“Harry, are you ok?” Draco shook him a little, and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m fine,” he said faintly. The image of Sirius falling through the arch was burning in his mind. Harry looked around the room, and saw Tonks hovering anxiously to his left side. He turned and saw Lupin glancing over his shoulder at him while speaking quickly to someone, his head still in the fire.

Harry turned his eyes on his hands, and he saw that they were trembling.

“What happened?” he heard Draco ask. Harry shook his head, not wanting to talk about it.

“I’ll tell you later,” Harry mumbled, gesturing to Tonks with his head. Draco seemed to understand, and left it at that, but continued to look anxious.

Running a hand through his messy hair, Harry closed his eyes, trying to rid Sirius’ face from his head. The image was clearer with his eyes closed though, and when Harry opened his eyes again, his eyesight was blurred again. Somehow, he had a feeling it wasn’t because he had just spaced out either.

Harry stood up shakily, and locked eyes with Draco. Draco stood also, and Harry said

“Tonks, I’m just going to go outside for a bit, ok?” Tonks nodded comfortingly, and Draco followed Harry out of the side door, where they found a seat that would fit two.

“Are you ok?” Draco asked immediately, as soon as Harry had sat down.

“Yes… no… I don’t know.” Harry blinked; his eyes were stinging.

“What happened?” Draco asked softly. Harry didn’t know what to say. Draco was turning out to be a whole lot different to the Malfoy he thought he knew.

“I was just remembering, that’s all,” he murmured, avoiding looking at Draco, who was standing in front of him.

“I could sort of tell that,” Draco said, without any of the spite he would usually have used.

Harry sighed. He felt compelled to speak his mind, to express his emotions. He just wasn’t ready to deal with them.

“My godfather died about a year ago. It seems like a long time, but I’ve never talked to anyone about it. Anyone.” Harry hesitated, still unsure why he was telling Draco this. Draco had only arrived in his company this morning, however unbelievable that seemed. He didn’t even know if Draco was simply acting! He could be on the Dark side; he could be lying…

Draco sat down next to Harry, and slowly put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it; it was wrong of me to ask. You don’t have to tell me, it’s none of my business,” Draco said reassuringly, but Harry could see the anxious hurt look in the back of his silver eyes.

“No, I think I should.” A long silence met Harry’s words. Harry was surprised he had said that, but he knew it was true.

Draco bit his bottom lip, unconsciously it seemed, and shook his head.

“No, honestly Harry, you don’t have to. Surely it takes longer than a day for you to trust someone, particularly someone who you hate.”

“I don’t hate you,” Harry replied automatically. Draco raised his right eyebrow in disbelief. “I don’t! It’s true,” Harry said, half smiling in spite of himself.

Draco smirked, his eyebrow still raised, and Harry suddenly became aware of how close Draco’s body was to him. ‘ _At least he’s wearing a shirt this time,’_ a smug voice in his head said. Harry felt his neck growing hotter, against his will. Draco just smirked harder, moving an inch closer.

Harry was sure Draco was doing this to mock him. So Harry did something to turn it back to Draco.

He started leaning towards Draco.

A brief look of shock crossed Draco’s smooth face, but he hid it quickly. He licked his lips craftily and slowly, daring Harry to move closer. A smirk wriggled its way onto Harry’s face. The boys’ lips were a mere inch away from each other’s…

“You two! Remus needs to talk to you for a second!” Tonks’ loud voice startled them both, and Harry leapt away from Draco, looking wildly over his shoulder as he stood up. Fortunately for them, Tonks was still safely inside. He turned back to Draco, and the realisation of what they had nearly done hit him.

Harry saw Draco’s pale cheeks get a tinge of red in them, and felt his own face flush.

“Coming Tonks!” Harry yelled, and hastily made his way back up to the cottage. Lupin had his head out of the fire, and he nodded at the boys as they entered.

“I wasn’t able to get hold of the person I needed to see, so I’m afraid we’ll have to stay the night here before we go anywhere else,” Lupin said, fiddling with the little bag of floo powder. “We only have one other spare room, so you boy’s will have to share it.”

Harry nodded, and asked,

“Who was the person you were trying to get hold of?”

Lupin paused before answering.

“Dumbledore. Now, I’ve already put your trunks in your room. It’s the first door on your right if you go down the hall. The bathroom is opposite your room.”

Leading the way, Harry and Draco left the living room without another word. The bedroom was quite small, and the two beds (which were about two foot apart) were tiny, but it looked comfortable none the less. Their trunks were at the end of their respective beds.

“I’m going to bed now,” said Draco, while opening his trunk. “I’m exhausted.”

Draco took out some black boxers made of silk, and took off his shirt. Harry didn’t want to be caught staring at Draco’s torso, so he turned away and buried his nose in his trunk, searching for his own boxers.

When he found some dark red ones, he chanced a look over his shoulder, and saw, to his slight relief, that Draco was dressed in his boxers, and climbing awkwardly into his bed. Harry removed his own shirt and pants, and quickly put on his boxers.

“Harry,” Draco said cautiously, as Harry got into his own bed.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for taking me in when you found me at that park,” Draco replied, stumbling over his words in an effort to say them quickly.

“A Malfoy thanking me! I never thought I’d see the day,” Harry grinned at Draco. “Seriously though, I wouldn’t have just left you there. I _am_ a Gryffindor, after all.”

Draco smirked at this, and agreed by nodding. Then he shut his eyes, and wriggled down under the blankets a bit further. Harry did the same, making himself quite comfortable.

“Goodnight… Draco.”

“Goodnight… Harry.”


	5. Emotions Running High

_Chapter 5: Emotions Running High_

*** * *  
**

She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder, casually, not knowing that she was about to die.

But Draco knew it.

Draco smirked an evil smirk, and drew his wand from his pocket. The women laughed at him, and turned away from him. She started walking across the grass, to the other side of the field. Draco waved his wand, and the grass that she was walking on instantly burst into flames.

The women screamed, and spun around to face him. Her eyes were white and open wide; her mouth was in a silent ‘O’.

And yet, Draco laughed at her fear, and pointed his wand directly at her heart.

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Draco’s mother’s body fell in a limp pile on top of the burning grass, and Draco just laughed…

***** * *** **

Gasping for air, Draco sat bolt upright in his little bed. It took him a few moments to realise that it had just been a dream, and that he was at Lupin’s house, not in a field.

Draco took deep breaths, trying to calm his pounding heart. It felt like it was about to rip it’s way out of his body. He couldn’t believe what he had just dreamed – he had murdered his own mother!

More to distract himself, Draco looked around at the room. It was still dark, save for the strip of moonlight streaming in from the window. Harry’s face was illuminated by the light, and Draco felt his breath hitch.

Harry was fast asleep, and his face looked so angelic it wasn’t funny. His hair was sticking up all over the place, but that just made him look all the more innocent. The blankets had slipped halfway down his chest, so that Draco could see some of Harry’s well-toned muscles.

He shook his head slightly, to clear his mind. Draco was mesmerised by how… perfect Harry looked. For a second, Draco thought of waking up Harry, to tell him about the dream, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to move Harry.

Sighing, Draco lay down and closed his eyes, willing sleep to overcome him. His jaw was beginning to ache annoyingly, and Draco swore inwardly. He’d never be able to sleep with that pain, let alone with the nightmare still fresh in his mind.

Draco slipped out of bed, being careful not to brush Harry’s bed so not to wake him up, and opened his trunk at the end of his bed. He silently searched through it, looking for his potion vial of pain relief. Draco found it near the bottom, and drank the bottle in one swallow. He knew it would only last for a few hours, but it was better than nothing.

After getting back into his own bed, he turned to look at Harry again. How he longed to slide next to Harry, to cling onto him like he had done when apparating here, to at least feel some comfort…

But of course Draco couldn’t. _You shouldn’t even be having these thoughts_ , he scolded himself. _Malfoy’s don’t fancy people of the same sex! What would my father say?_

Harry shifted a little in his sleep and licked his lips unconsciously. Closing his eyes on him, Draco turned over to face the wall, and tried to forget his dream, and fall asleep again.

***** * ***   
**

When Harry woke up, there was a pool of bright sun lighting up the little bedroom. He noticed that Draco must already be up, since his bed was empty. So Harry quickly got into some clothes and entered the living room.

He was greeted with the sight of Draco sitting on a sofa, looking sulky and pained at the same time, with Tonks fussing over him.

“Why in Merlins name didn’t you tell me?” she was asking impatiently.

“Well, it didn’t hurt yesterday,” Draco said sourly.

Tonks turned around and saw Harry standing in the doorway, and she swooped upon him.

“Harry, you stay here with Draco, while I go and get the git some potion. I can’t believe him…” she trailed off as she walked down the hall out of sight.

Harry sat down by Draco, and raised his eyebrows, amused.

“What have you done this time?”

“Apparently, my jaw is broken,” Draco replied crossly. “How was I supposed to know, it didn’t hurt until the middle of the night.”

“Why didn’t you wake us up and tell us?” asked Harry, taken aback.

“Because… I didn’t want to,” Draco answered uncomfortably.

Tonks came hurrying back into the room, laden down with numerous potion vials. One vial slipped form her grasp and smashed on the rug. She frowned at it before sighing.

“Ah well, Draco, I think you’d better take this one; I’m no good at fixing broken bones,” she said, handing Draco a purple potion. He swallowed it, and made a disgusted face.

“What the hell is this stuff?”

“It will ease the pain until it’s mended. Which will have to wait until we see Molly, she’s an expert on healing.”

“We’re going to see Mrs Weasley?” Harry said eagerly.

“Some time today, yes,” Tonks replied vaguely. She gathered the other potions, cleaned the spilt one with a flick of her wand, and went back down the hall. While she was gone, Lupin entered the house from his garden.

“So, you both are up,” he said cheerfully. “We’ll be leaving soon, but meanwhile, why don’t we have something to eat.”

Lupin conjured up some pancakes and muffins, along with juice and coffee. He invited them to help themselves, and left the room, so Harry grabbed a plate and pilled pancakes on it. He had only just realised how hungry he was; he hadn’t had dinner last night.

Draco was a little less greedy; he graciously took a blueberry muffin and a cup of coffee, and leant back into the sofa.

There was silence while the two boys were eating, Harry eating second _and_ third helpings, and Draco eating two muffins and sipping on his coffee.

“That’s better,” Harry sighed, leaning back also. Draco looked amused, and set his empty cup on the table.

“What?” Harry asked, noticing the blonde’s expression.

“Nothing,” Draco said, smiling softly. Harry scrutinised him for a moment, and saw that Draco still looked tired from yesterday.

“You don’t look like you slept very much last night,” Harry concluded finally. Draco shrugged in what appeared to be a casual sort of way, but Harry couldn’t help noticing a dark shadow fall over Draco’s face for just a split second.

“Hey guys, Lupin said it’s time to go now,” Tonks announced as she walked into the living room. “I’m going to come with you as well, ok?” She smiled at them both, before heading into their room and dragging their trunks out.

“Tonks, we could have got them,” Harry said, laughing a little and rising to his feet.

“No, no, I’ve got them,” she said, and promptly dropped one on her foot. “Ouch!”

“Here.” Harry lifted it off and chuckled again.

“Just as well we’re leaving, before Tonks can break something else,” Lupin said as he entered holding a teapot. “Our portkey,” he said simply, in reply to Harry’s questioning look. Draco got up from the sofa and held his trunk, and Harry followed suit.

All four of them touched the portkey, and with a great whoosh, they were all swept off their feet. Harry shut his eyes tightly and for once, kept his balance when his feet met some ground.

Harry’s heart sunk as soon as he opened his eyes, hand still tightly holding onto his trunk. He knew where he was. And he wasn’t very happy about it.

***** * ***   
**

When Draco’s feet found land, his ankle (which had stopped throbbing) didn’t even cause him to fall over. He looked around himself, and once again was at a loss of why they always arrived at the weirdest of places.

They were standing in a patch of grass, which was situated in the middle of a square. A number of untidy houses stood around them, many with broken windows and peeling paint. Draco had never been in a place like it before.

“Where are - ? “ Draco started to ask, but Tonks silenced him with a look. He turned to Harry, expecting him to look confused too, but Draco was surprised even further. Harry was not looking confused. His face was far from it.

A great scowl was etched onto Harry’s face, and his normally bright emerald eyes were dark and shiny with fury. His trunk sat forgotten at his feet.

“Why the hell did you bring me here,” he hissed in a threatening voice. Draco stepped backwards in shock; he had only ever seen Harry looking that angry when Draco had taunted him about his mother in his fifth year.

Lupin cast a worried glance in Tonks’ direction, but turned without speaking and began heading down the footpath. Tonks seemed torn between wanting to talk to Harry and wanting to follow Lupin; after a moment’s pause she looked sympathetically at Harry, and then walked after Lupin.

Draco stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Um… Harry, are we going to go with them?” he asked tentatively. Harry let out a long breath, and rubbed his temple.

“Yeah,” he mumbled; Draco could only just hear him. Harry started walking incredibly slowly after Lupin and Tonks, dragging his trunk which created a scraping noise. Draco walked beside him, wondering where they were and what was wrong. Harry appeared to be dreading where they were going, something which Draco couldn’t figure out.

After passing a couple of houses, they met up with Lupin and Tonks. Lupin was holding a piece of parchment out to Draco, so Draco took it, feeling even more bemused. It said:

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

Draco opened his mouth, but Tonks swiftly put a hand over his mouth, and whispered,

“Just think about what you read, and hurry up about it.”

Draco went through what he had read, and right before his eyes, a whole house appeared out of thin air, and slid itself neatly in between number eleven and number thirteen.

If Tonks’ hand wasn’t covering his mouth, he would have asked about a million questions, but instead he found himself and Harry being ushered into number twelve Grimmauld Place.

As soon as he stepped foot into the house, he realised was standing in a long hallway (which was very dark), and the cold atmosphere swept through him. Tonks removed her hand from his mouth, and crept down the hall, trying very hard _not_ to bump into anything. Lupin followed her, and beckoned for Harry and Draco to follow him.

Harry was not looking angry anymore, just extremely tired and resigned. Draco quietly put his hand on Harry’s back, wanting him to know he was there, even though Draco didn’t understand why Harry was like this. Harry gave Draco a half smile, and Draco noticed that Harry’s eyes were shining in a sad sort of way.

After depositing their trunks at the bottom of a staircase, Lupin showed Harry and Draco into a large room, complete with a fireplace with green flames, several sofas and silver ornaments. Lupin then carried on down the hallway, so Draco looked around the room. There, sitting on the sofas, were people that made Draco dread his arrival.

“Hi Harry!” cried Ginny Weasley, jumping up from her seat the moment she saw him. She gave him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek, which for some odd reason, made Draco feel a twinge of annoyance.

“I wondered when you’d get here,” Ginny’s brother, Ron Weasley said with a big grin. He got up and clapped Harry on the shoulder, and it was then that Draco was noticed.

After a long silence, Ron finally broke it.

“What the hell are you doing here ferret?” he practically spat at Draco. A wave of anger swept through his body. The anger then faded to bitterness. Of course; how could Draco have expected to be welcomed by Ron?

Draco looked at Harry, who was frowning slightly, as though thinking.

“He is here because Lupin said he could come here Ron,” Harry answered. He looked back at Draco, and signalled that they sit down. Draco slowly sat down at the end of the nearest sofa. He could tell this was going to be difficult.

Ginny was staring at Draco, almost scrutinising him. He was forcibly reminded of Hermione Granger, who often looked at Draco like that. That skill must have rubbed off on Ginny.

“Is Hermione here?” Harry asked. Draco got the feeling that he was steering the subject purposely, for which he was glad.

“No, she’s coming sometime this week,” Ron replied, still glaring at Draco. Another silence followed, and Harry sighed.

“Look, Ron, Draco is – “

“Draco?” Ron interrupted Harry scathingly. “Since when has he been ‘Draco’ to you?”

 _‘Since yesterday, actually,’_ thought Draco, and smirked.

“What are you smirking at?” Ron nearly shouted at Draco.

“Just how immature you can be Weasley,” drawled Draco. _‘God, I haven’t used my drawling voice all day!’_ Harry looked pleadingly at Draco, a look that plainly said ‘Don’t make things worse!’

“You keep your mouth shut Slime-ball!” snarled Ron, his hands curled into fists. “You aren’t even welcome here, so you could be out the door before you know it!”

“Ron!” Harry said exasperatedly. “Don’t!”

“Don’t what Harry?! Just tell me why the hell he is here!”

“Draco’s here because I insisted he come,” Harry said, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple. “You wouldn’t understand Ron.”

“You’re bloody well right! I don’t understand why this git should be welcome here, after all the things he’s done and said to us!” Ron retaliated loudly.

“Ron, be quiet,” hissed Ginny.

Ron’s anger turned into incredulity.

“What the hell for?” he asked tiredly, sitting down again.

“Other people will hear you,” Ginny said impatiently. Draco glanced at Harry, and saw that he still had his eyes closed. Draco started feeling a little guilty for causing this whole scene. He had to say something. Something… civil.

“Look, I’m here because I can’t stay anywhere else.”

Ron scoffed at this.

“Yeah, right. Like, your mansion of a house isn’t good enough for you.”

“No. Actually, I can’t go back there. My father escaped from Azkaban - I’m sure you must have read it in _The_ _Prophet_. You had a party I suspect,” Draco couldn’t help but adding this last sentence with an amount of bitterness in his voice. “I can’t stay with him because – because my father hates my guts.”

Looking a little taken aback, Ron sat silent for a moment. But only for a moment.

“I bet you just made all that up just to get our sympathy. Well, you were wrong, because you’ll never get my sympathy,” he finished, his chin set stubbornly.

Harry opened his eyes and groaned in frustration.

“See, I told you you’d never understand.”

“You’re not saying _you_ believe him!” Ron asked cynically. Harry stood up from the sofa.

“Come on Draco, we have to take our trunks upstairs,” he muttered. Harry then swiftly left the room. Draco stood up, a bit startled by Harry’s hasty departure, and with a final look at Ron’s disgruntled face, he followed.

Harry was waiting at the bottom of the stairway, trunk in hand. Draco took his own trunk, and together they started dragging it up the wide stairs. Draco looked at Harry, but his messy black hair hid his face.

They reached the first floor, and Draco stopped, unsure of where to go. However, Harry didn’t look as though he was going anywhere either. He was standing frozen in front of a room (the door was open), looking thoroughly shaken.

And then, as suddenly as he had stopped, Harry took off up the stairs, his trunk clanging loudly after him.

“Harry!” Draco called. “Wait, don’t go so fast!” Draco started climbing up after Harry, but Harry was still moving speedily.

“Harry!!”

Harry reached the top of the stairs, and finally stopped running. Draco pushed on, and got to the second landing where Harry was standing.

“Why did you start running?” Draco asked Harry, who was facing the other way.

Harry ignored him, and proceeded to a door on the right. When Harry opened the door, Draco crinkled up his nose in disgust.

The room was dark and cavernous, with two beds sitting miserably in the corners, and not a lot else. Harry dumped his trunk at the end of a bed, mumbled something about ‘going to the bathroom’, and went through another door leading out of the room.

By now, Draco was quite bemused. He couldn’t understand why Harry was behaving so strangely. He set his trunk down by the other bed, and surveyed the room. It really was gloomy.

Draco waited about 10 minutes for Harry to return, but he didn’t. So Draco walked over to the door where Harry had disappeared through, and listened. All he could hear was a muffled noise of some sort; and then a shaky intake of breath. And Draco suddenly understood.

“Harry,” Draco said softly, tapping on the door as he did so. There was a short silence, and then -

“Is that you Draco?” Harry’s voice asked almost inaudibly.

“Yeah. Can I come in Harry?” There was no response, so Draco opened the door slowly, and saw Harry sitting hunched against the side of the bath. There were tears slipping down his cheeks, and when he noticed Draco, he hurriedly tried to wipe them away.

“Hey,” whispered Draco. He sat down next to Harry, and looked at him. Harry’s eyes were shining with tears and red-rimmed. “What’s wrong?”

Harry half smiled without any real conviction, and took a deep breath.

“I just can’t fully accept the fact that my godfather will never set foot in his house again.”

“This was your godfather’s house?” asked Draco. “But this house is like… a Dark Arts lover’s house.”

“He wasn’t like that; only his family was,” Harry explained firmly. He ignored a lone tear falling down his cheek.

Draco had a sudden urge to reach over to Harry’s pale face and flick the tear away, but he resisted. However, Draco felt himself leaning closer to Harry, until his head was nearly resting against Harry’s.

Harry stared at Draco for a long second, as though he knew every thought that was running through his mind, and before Draco even had time to think of the consequences, Harry’s lips were on his own.

The best way to describe the current sensation was to compare the kiss to the first time Draco had ever ridden a broom. He felt the exhilaration, the waves of longing, and the satisfaction of finally doing what he had wanted to do for a long time.

When Draco and Harry finally broke apart, Harry was looking at Draco shyly, seeking permission, and when Draco grinned, Harry mirrored his happy expression.

“I’ve wished for that moment for a while now,” murmured Draco as he lent against Harry. Harry merely chuckled quietly, all trace of remorse gone.

“We better get your jaw fixed by Mrs Weasley,” Harry said, moving closer to Draco (if that was possible!).

A smirk snaked its way onto Draco’s face.

“Not yet, I have something else in mind,” he said before capturing Harry’s lips with his own once more.


	6. The Dangers of Exploding Snap

_Chapter 6: The Dangers of Exploding Snap_

*** * ***

After about ten minutes, (during which a much desired snog session had taken place), Harry and Draco both emerged in the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry, who had been reliving his moment with Draco, was shocked out of this memory when he noticed Dumbledore and Lupin sitting at the table.

“Sir! Er – What are you doing here?”

“Hello Harry, Draco,” Dumbledore inclined his head to both boys. “I was just talking to Remus, incidentally about your Uncle and Aunt, Harry.”

“What about them?” Harry asked cautiously.

“They were found looking rather dazed and confused outside of the Leaky Cauldron yesterday night. Mr Weasley found them. They couldn’t remember where they had been, or who they had seen. This led me to believe they were kidnapped for a short period of time.”

“But sir,” Harry said after a pause. “Why would anyone want to kidnap my Uncle and Aunt?”

“My theory – and I’m sure it is correct – is that Death Eaters may have kidnapped them, to possibly collect some information about you, Harry.”

Harry snorted.

“All they’d tell them is that I’m an annoying little brat, and I think the Death Eaters already know that.” Draco laughed at this comment as well.

“Well,” Dumbledore said with a trace of a smile. “Your Uncle and Aunt are now safely at home, but I think we ought to give them more protection. I suggest – “

“Not for them to stay here!” Harry interrupted. The idea alone horrified him.

“No Harry. I suggest Aurors based there, keeping a lookout.”

Knowing it was the right thing to do, Harry nodded. He glanced at Draco, and saw a content look dancing in his silver eyes. Harry smiled at Draco, and wished he could jump on the blonde. Before coming downstairs, they both had agreed not to tell anyone about ‘the thing’ they had between them.

“… should be getting off,” Dumbledore’s voice said distantly.

“Right, sir,” said Harry absently. Harry thought he saw a faint smile on Dumbledore’s face, but before he could really be sure, Dumbledore swept from the room.

“Draco, you should get your jaw fixed by Mrs Weasley,” Lupin said, awkwardly using Draco’s first name.

“Yes, so I’ve heard,” said Mrs Weasley, walking into the kitchen. “Harry dear, you _are_ looking awfully skinny!” was all she said before hugging Harry tightly.

“Is that all I’m going to hear from people?” Harry asked, his voice muffled by Mrs Weasley.

“Well, I’m afraid it’s true,” stated Mrs Weasley. She let go of Harry (for which he was thankful), and turned to Draco.

“You seem to have been in the wars,” she murmured, while checking his jaw. Draco hardly suppressed a snort, but let Mrs Weasley mutter various charms, until the majority of his bruises had faded and his jaw looked healed.

“That’s a lot better. I’ll just get some lunch together, so you two can go and tell Ron and Ginny to come.”

Harry and Draco left the kitchen, and entered the living room to find Ron still sitting with an irritated look on his face, and Ginny curled up reading.

“Um… guys, it’s time for lunch,” Harry said hesitantly. Ron got up and left the room ahead of the others, blatantly ignoring Draco and Harry. Harry caught Ginny’s eye, and she smiled ruefully.

“He’ll come ‘round,” muttered Draco. They exited after Ginny, and Harry silently hoped that Ron would come around. He had a feeling he would really need Ron on his side in the times to come.

***** * ***  
**

After a very large lunch (Draco was _almost_ forced to eat a second helping; Harry ate third helpings without even having to be asked), Draco and Harry retired to their bedroom, not wanting to sit awkwardly in the living room with Ron.

“Well, my welcome from Ron has been better,” Harry sighed, collapsing onto his mattress.

“I’m sorry,” said Draco; after all, it was for his sake. “I mean, just yesterday, I was your enemy. It was a huge thing, putting your friendship with Weasley on the line, just for me.”

“It was my choice though,” Harry reminded him.

“Yeah, you had a choice to get beaten up by Weasley, or me,” grinned Draco. “I know why you chose to be in my good books.”

“Sure, your – _superior_ – skills have got me shaking in my boots,” replied Harry, rolling his eyes and smirking lightly form his lying down position on his bed.

“They should,” retorted Draco, walking over to Harry’s bed. “I could do things to you that you wouldn’t even be able to pronounce.”

Draco sat down next to Harry and lent back on his hands so his face was nearer to Harry’s.

“Sounds interesting,” said Harry, a smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, you’ll be more than interested when I’m finished with you,” smirked Draco. He kissed Harry, their tongues fighting for authority. Harry sat up slightly, deepening the kiss. Draco moved across to Harry’s jaw line, and made a trail of kisses towards his neck. Harry gave a very soft moan, and put his arm around Draco’s own neck. He stroked his hair, and Draco closed his eyes, feeling a swooping sensation in his stomach.

Draco brought his hand up to Harry’s shirt, and slowly began to slide up the side to reveal a tanned abdomen, but –

“Harry!” sung out a female voice, accompanied by quick footsteps, coming along the hall.

“Shit!” Draco whispered, and hurriedly ducked under Harry’s arm. Harry got up from the bed, frantically pulled down his shirt, and struggled into a jacket to hide the marks Draco had left on Harry’s neck.

With a meaningful look at Harry, Draco rushed into the bathroom, and closed the door. He pressed his ear to the door, and heard that he had concealed himself just in time.

“Harry, we were wondering where you were,” Ginny’s voice said from the bedroom.

“Yeah, I’ve – er – been here,” Harry said.

“Well, me and Ron were just wondering if you and … Malfoy wanted to join us for a little game of Exploding Snap.”

“Um, sure, Draco’s just in the bathroom, but yeah, we’ll come right down.”

“Ok,” said Ginny. There were footsteps, but they stopped before they left the room. “What’s that on your face?”

“What? What’s on my face…?”

“Just a red spot.”

“Oh, that – that’s just an insect bite,” Harry made up quickly.

“Oh. Well, we’ll see you in ten.” Thankfully, Draco heard her footsteps leaving the room. He pushed the door open to see Harry taking a deep breath, and grinning disbelievingly.

“We really need to be more careful,” said Harry, shaking his head. Draco fought back a smile, and walked over to the door.

“We better go and play their game, or else they’ll wonder even more what we’re up to.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be so good,” said Harry smiling, and brushed his lips lightly on Draco’s before going ahead of him down the stairs.

***** * ***  
**

Draco paid dearly for agreeing to play Exploding Snap. He was sure his eyebrows would never be the same again; Harry assured him that you couldn’t notice anything, but Draco begged to differ.

Mrs Weasley had cooked another large meal for dinner ( _what happened to small dishes?_ ), of which Draco ate about a third of what anyone else ate. He was aching to go back upstairs and have a hot shower, but didn’t want to appear rude. Although (as he rightly thought), Ron’s opinion of him would not change if he left early or not.

Stifling a yawn, Draco watched as Ginny and Lupin were both directing Harry in a game of wizard’s chess against Ron; Ron maintained a stony look on his face, and certainly showed no mercy.

It suddenly struck Draco as odd that he had never played wizard’s chess with his family, or any other game for that matter. His father had always been out with work things, and his mother liked her space.

Draco shook his head, not wanting to think of his mother just yet. He stood up, and Harry turned to look at him enquiringly.

“I’m going to bed, I’m a bit tired,” he explained. Harry nodded, and Draco walked out of the living room, and up into his and Harry’s bedroom.

Draco opened his trunk to fetch some boxers, and he walked into the bathroom.

***** * ***  
**

When Draco came out of his very long, hot shower, he opened his trunk again to throw in his clothes. As he did so, he heard a crunch of parchment. Frowning slightly, he searched for the object in question. As Draco’s eyes fell on his trousers from the day before, realisation hit him. Harry’s letter from Oliver Wood.

He pulled it out of the pocket, and sat down on his bed. The same curly red writing looked up at him, and Draco unfolded the letter to begin to read:

_Dear Harry,_

_Hi, how are you? You are probably wondering, why in Merlin’s sake is Oliver writing to me for?!_  
_Well, as you know, I’m in the Puddlemere United League Quidditch team. We have just won the League Cup, and I’m going to be at Diagon Alley, doing a promotional tour on the 3rd of August. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up with me, as I think it would be great if we could catch up. I’m staying at the Leaky Cauldron, so just come and see me there._  
_Be seeing you soon,_

_Oliver Wood._

For some reason, Draco had a feeling there was more behind the innocence of the simple letter. Before he had time to ponder any further, a voice spoke.

***** * ***  
**

Harry was not really surprised that he lost to Ron. Even with Lupin’s and Ginny’s help, Ron was playing more viciously than he ever had, so Harry didn’t have much hope.

When Harry retired to his and Draco’s bedroom, he saw that Draco was sitting on his bed, hunched over a piece of parchment.

“Hey,” greeted Harry. Draco jumped, and his cheeks flooded with a pinkish tinge.

“How did your game of chess go?” Draco asked.

“Heh, well I lost quite badly actually. But I expected that, I’m definitely not the world’s greatest chess player,” Harry answered, running his hand through his hair. He looked at Draco strangely, deciding that Draco must be hiding something.

“What’s up?” he asked, and sat down next to Draco. Draco whipped the parchment out of sight, but not before Harry saw his name on it in red ink.

“That had my name on it,” Harry said, frowning slightly. “Show me Draco.”

Draco bit his lip, but reluctantly handed over the parchment. Harry’s mouth fell open as he realised what it was.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded. Draco’s face twisted with worry, and he mumbled a response.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I found it when I was helping you pack. I thought it was pretty suspicious.”

Harry’s frown faded when he saw Draco’s face, which was like a child’s face after being caught stealing cookies that were freshly baked.

“I’m not mad at you; you were just trying to…”

“Look out for you,” finished Draco. “I don’t think you should go.”

“Why?” Harry said, surprised.

“I just have a feeling.”

“He just wants to talk with me. What’s bad about that?”

For that, Draco had no answer. He simply shrugged, and climbed into bed. Harry changed into a pair of boxers, and got into his own bed as well.

Harry glanced at Draco, and saw that the blonde’s eyes were still open, and staring out the window.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Draco said, almost too lightly for Harry’s liking. Draco closed his eyes, and settled down further in his bed.

Harry sighed, and took off his glasses. Obviously, Draco was not going to share his thoughts right now.

But that didn’t stop Harry from worrying about him.


	7. To Sleep Or Not To Sleep…

_Chapter 7: To Sleep Or Not To Sleep…_

*** * ***

Draco was showered, dressed, and sitting on his bed by the time Harry woke up. He smiled amusedly as Harry fumbled around on the table for his glasses.

“Good morning. Even though the morning is half over,” Draco mused out loud.

“Shut up,” Harry mumbled sitting up in bed. He rubbed his eyes and yawned before finally getting out of bed. “I’ll be in the shower if you want me.”

“I don’t want you until you’ve brushed your teeth,” Draco called out to Harry’s back, as he stumbled sleepily into the bathroom. He smirked as he heard a bang and Harry cursing.

Draco entered the kitchen to see Ron and Ginny eating breakfast, and Mrs Weasley still cooking some.

“Oh, good, I’ve just got some breakfast ready for you,” she said to Draco, and set a plate with toast, sausages, eggs and bacon on it. Draco thanked her politely, and started eating a piece of bacon.

Lupin slumped into the kitchen ten minutes later, looking very tired and preoccupied. He dropped the _Daily Prophet_ onto the table and stated gulping down a coffee Mrs Weasley had handed him.

“Is there anything interesting in there?” Ron asked, nodding at the newspaper. Lupin glanced at Draco before answering.

“Well, um… there is an article on Draco’s mother…” he trailed away. Draco’s insides froze, and he took the newspaper hesitantly.

In the middle of the front page sat a picture of his mother, looking very young and beautiful. She was smiling prettily, batting her eyelashes.

_Narcissa Malfoy was found dead in the entrance hall of her manor late last night. Close friend Primrose Parkinson was the person to discover Narcissa’s body. Mrs Parkinson, whose daughter attends school with Mrs Malfoy’s son, was very shocked and upset by this revelation. “I can’t believe anyone would want to kill Narcissa,” she said before bursting into tears at the interview. Ministry officials are making inquiries. The model figure Narcissa Malfoy seems to have been murdered, by use of the Killing Curse. There were no clues as to who the killer was, but Ministry officials believe her murder to be linked to the escaping of Lucius Malfoy, devoted husband of seventeen years. As for Draco Malfoy, Narcissa’s only son, he is currently missing. Whether he was involved in Narcissa’s death or not, his whereabouts is unknown. Ministry officials will also be putting effort into finding him._

When Draco finished reading the article he felt incredibly sick. He set down his toast, and with a great effort, looked up at Lupin.

“Do you mind if I take this page?” he asked, grateful to note his voice was steady.

“Sure,” Lupin agreed immediately, and Draco ripped the front page out. He stood up, and gave Ginny and Ron a fleeting look. Ginny was looking nervous and pitying, while Ron was as stubborn as ever. Draco left the kitchen fairly quickly, glad that no one tried to stop him.

He clutched the paper tightly in his hand, as though it might give him some support. He was finding it a bit hard to breathe, and the corners of his eyes were burning.

As Draco was intelligently looking at the floor, he didn’t realise that someone was near him until he walked straight into them.

“Hey, have you finished breakfast -?” Harry began to ask, but cut himself off when Draco looked up.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice full of concern. Draco attempted to say “Nothing,” but no sound came out. He brushed past Harry, and made his way to their room. He sat down heavily on his bed, and felt Harry sit down next to him.

Draco placed the paper on his lap, and sucked in a deep breath. He knew, deep down, that his mother’s body would be found, but that didn’t make him any more prepared for it.

He cursed himself silently when he found himself holding back tears. He had resisted crying in front of Harry once in the past couple of days, and he wasn’t about to break his resolution now.

“Are you going to be alright?” Harry asked Draco softly. Draco nodded fiercely, and stood up, looking anywhere but at Harry or the paper. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, and stuffed the paper into his trunk.

“Are you coming down or staying here? I mean… you don’t have to come down… I can bring you some breakfast…” Harry trailed off awkwardly. Draco would have said that he felt far from hungry, but that required speaking, and he was sure his voice would give him away totally.

Instead, Draco shrugged and in spite of himself, looked up at Harry. His eyes were sparkling with worry and empathy, and looked like he was only just stopping himself from throwing his arms around Draco.

Harry gave Draco a reassuring smile, and headed out of the room to the kitchen.

Draco let out a long breath. He rubbed his temple furiously, blinking hard all the while. A wave of hatred rose over Draco. The bastard. He didn’t even move her! He didn’t even give a damn.

So Draco vowed, then and there, that he would hunt down his father, and get revenge, even if it cost him his life.

***** * ***   
**

After a breakfast that was shadowed by the article on Draco’s mother, Harry and Draco made their way down to the living room, to see what everyone was doing.

Mrs Weasley was drifting around, not really doing a set task; Ginny was writing in what Harry presumed to be a diary (not Riddle’s, thankfully); and Ron looked like he was attempting to write a Transfiguration essay. Harry could tell by all the scribbling out, that Ron was not making much headway.

“So, what’s on the agenda today Mrs Weasley?” Harry asked in a light tone.

“Oh, didn’t you know? Hermione will be arriving any minute now.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief; hopefully Hermione would be more supportive of Draco staying here.

Harry sat down on a sofa, and Draco followed suit. He looked at Ron again, to find that Ron was pretending (quite badly) to be immersed in his work.

“Ron,” Harry began, not knowing what to say. Ron didn’t look up, but his quill stopped moving.

“Look, we need to talk –“ Harry suggested, but got drowned out by the doorbell ringing, and what he knew must be Sirius’ mother’s portrait yelling and screaming. Mrs Weasley jumped, scandalised, and rushed off to the front door. Harry got up hesitantly, and looked down the corridor. Hermione was entering, apologising and carrying a trunk and a ginger fluff ball.

Harry walked up to her, a grin spreading over his face, while Mrs Weasley shut the door, and trotted off ahead of them.

“Hey Harry! It’s great to see you, I didn’t know you’d be here before me!” said Hermione, and dropped her trunk and Crookshanks on the floor. She threw her arms around him, and he had never felt happier to see her.

“Yeah, it’s great to see you too!”

“Ron’s here, right? What about Ginny?” Hermione asked, letting go of Harry and studying him.

“Yeah, they’re here,” Harry answered casually. “But, we have a bit of a problem. You see, Ron’s not talking to me, and…”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, frowning like she always does when she hasn’t figured something out yet.

“Well, I think I’ll let you see for yourself,” Harry said. He took hold of her trunk, and they walked into the living room. Hermione’s mouth opened slightly.

“Hermione!” Ginny cried into the silence, and ran to greet her. Ron turned to her, and said stiffly,

“Hi Hermione. How are you?”

“Good Ron,” Hermione answered, looking between him and Harry. “And, erm, hello Malfoy.”

“Hello Granger,” Draco said smoothly, standing up and combing his hair with one hand. Harry couldn’t stop a smile sneaking its way onto his face; Draco looked so adorable with a sliver of blonde hair falling in his eyes.

“So, Hermione, I’ll take your trunk upstairs,” Harry said with a meaningful look at her. “Do you want to see where you’re sleeping?”

“Sure Harry,” Hermione said, looking surprised.

“I’ll come too,” Draco chimed in, with a knowing expression.

“Ok, we will see you later guys,” Harry said to Ginny and Ron, the latter turning sulkily back to his homework.

The three teenagers walked up to Hermione and Ginny’s room without exchanging words, but when Harry set down the trunk, Hermione opened her mouth.

“Ok, what’s going on? I saw… I saw your mother in the paper this morning,” she said awkwardly, looking at Draco’s feet.

“Of course you did,” Draco muttered.

“Draco is here because I said he should stay here,” Harry explained to Hermione. “Because I want him here. Ron just didn’t take to kindly to my choice though. That’s why he’s not talking to me – because he can’t see how I can trust Draco.”

Hermione stayed silent for a moment, taking it all in. Harry bit his lip, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t follow Ron’s lead.

“So, no one else knows you’re here, except us and Lupin and co.?” Hermione asked Draco. Draco nodded his agreement.

“I have to stay here anyway. I have nowhere else to go.” Hermione shot Harry a stunned look, and Draco, who saw her face, carried on. “I refused the dark mark. And now my father doesn’t want to know me. And I don’t want to know him,” Draco finished strongly.

Hermione nodded, and to Harry’s immense relief, she smiled at him.

“I’m glad that you have come to Malfoy’s aid like this. I mean, he was your enemy,” she looked shyly at Draco. “And you don’t have to worry about Ron,” she went on. “I shall be talking to him all right.”

Draco smiled at Harry and Hermione; a beautiful, genuine smile, and Harry felt a feeling of affection rise up in his chest. He couldn’t believe that only a couple of days ago, he had hated Draco.

“Come on,” Harry said cheerfully. “Let’s go downstairs and see how Ron’s getting on with his homework. I don’t doubt he’ll need your help Hermione.”

***** * ***   
**

All in all, the afternoon went very well for Draco. Harry, Ginny and Hermione’s conversations kept Draco quite busy, ranging from homework, to Quidditch, to NEWTS, to house elves (Hermione was strongly against enslavement and mistreatment, something which Draco could relate to). He felt, for the first time in his life, able to talk freely, and like he had real friends. Not once did he have to think about his mother.

And all too soon, he was curling up in bed, and Harry was flicking the light out and climbing into his own bed. Within seconds, Draco was fighting sleep. He hadn’t slept more than two hours the previous night, for which he was paying for tonight.

Draco tossed and turned. He tried to make himself uncomfortable; hell, he even tried to remember every potion he had ever concocted. But, after a while of fruitless attempts, Draco’s eyelids slowly closed, and the dreams began…

***** * ***   
**

Draco lay on the wooden floor, squinting to see the dark room. He heard a clunk, and sat up quickly. He could hear footsteps coming towards him.

Out of nowhere, Draco saw two glinting eyes, and his heart nearly leap out of his chest when a hand grabbed his neck.

“Draco.”

Draco didn’t think it was possible for that much hatred to be injected into a single word, but clearly he was mistaken.

“It was your fault. If you hadn’t resisted me, she’d still be alive,” hissed the voice, full of poison. “You’d still be at the Manor, not staying in a house of scum! With blood traitors and mudbloods, no less! When I find you, you’ll be ripped into a million shreds!”

Draco closed his eyes tightly, trying to avoid an attack. His fingers were numb, and his breathing was shallow. He tried to jerk out his father’s grasp, but his father roared and held his throat tighter.

And suddenly, the strong hand changed into a smaller, delicate hand. It was gripping tighter than ever, and Draco could see two brighter sparkles in the darkness.

“Draco, you need to run. You need to run after your father. It was your fault I died, the least you could do was to make him pay,” said a female voice, bursting with fury.

Draco tried to speak, but couldn’t draw enough breath to make a sound. The eyes in front of him swam in and out of focus, and he felt his eyes roll up inside his head. His neck was released, and he fell to the floor with a strangled cry.

***** * ***   
**

Draco was jolted out of his horribly vivid dream and he opened his eyes. Not that that did him any use, as it was pitch black. He lay quite still, breathing heavily, trying to forget the malicious voice.

And suddenly, out of the darkness, Draco heard footsteps coming towards him. His body tensed, and he sat up, straining to see. The footsteps came nearer, and Draco fought to contain the panic rising in his chest. It was just like his dream!

Two bright pinpricks appeared close to Draco’s bed, and a soft voice whispered

“Draco?”

***** * ***   
**

Harry hastily awoke when he heard a choked cry. He fumbled for his glasses, and put them on. There was no need though; it was clearly in the middle of the night.

He looked sideways to Draco’s bed, and heard heavy breathing, faster than normal. Harry jumped out of bed, and started walking cautiously to Draco’s bed. The breathing stopped abruptly, and Harry heard a rustle of sheets. Harry drew closer to Draco, and saw that he was sitting up.

“Draco?” Harry said quietly. Draco let out a long breath he had been withholding, and collapsed back into his pillows.

“Harry,” Draco whispered, sounding relieved. His eyes were closed and now that Harry was next to him, he saw that Draco’s face was extremely white.

“Draco, are you alright?” asked Harry. Draco shrugged one shoulder, and shuffled over in his bed.

“Can you please – just stay with me a while?” Draco asked, almost inaudibly.

“Sure,” Harry said, and slipped under the blankets. He felt Draco trembling next to him, and his apprehension intensified.

“Draco, what happened? Did you have a dream?”

Draco nodded, and turned to face Harry. He had his eyes open now, and Harry saw a glimmer of torment in them. As Draco explained his dream, Harry chewed his lip. So this was the reason for Draco’s insomnia – in fear of having dreams like these.

Harry was quickly pulled out of his thoughts, however, when Draco let out an unexpected sob. His heart shattered at the sight of Draco like this; crystal-like tears had begun to trace paths down Draco’s cheeks.

Settling himself nearer to Draco so that his chest was touching his back, Harry lightly kissed Draco’s shoulder, and put his arm around him. He held Draco as he cried, wishing he could take this broken feeling away from Draco.

After about a minute, Draco’s tears stopped, and he turned to face Harry.

“Thanks,” he said softly, and kissed Harry slowly on the lips. Harry closed his eyes contently, and kissed Draco back, with an equal amount of fervour.

When Draco broke away, he was smiling, a sight Harry was happy to see.

“Would you be able to stay the night here?” Draco asked. “It would help me ever so much.” Draco pouted innocently, and Harry grinned.

“Of course,” he said, moving his head into the crook of Draco’s neck. “How could I resist that cute pout?”

“I’m not cute!” Draco insisted, but Harry could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Whatever, just be quiet and kiss me goodnight… or is good morning?”


	8. You’re my Wheezy!

_Chapter 8: You’re my Wheezy!_

*** * ***

_Mmmmm… I’m so warm…and awfully smothered… hmmm…_

These were the thoughts of Draco as he slowly returned from sleepy land. He opened his eyes, and became aware of an arm hung loosely over him. Turning over carefully, Draco came face to face with Harry, who was dead to the world.

Draco smiled softly; _Harry_ was really the cute one. His untidy black hair splashed on the pillow, and his chest moved lightly from his breathing. The tiniest of smiles graced his features, and Draco felt lucky to have been given a second chance to prove he wasn’t the horrible school bully he used to be.

Slipping out of Harry’s embrace, Draco quietly walked into the bathroom, and had a hot shower. When he had finished, and had wrapped a towel around his bottom half, Draco paused by the mirror. He eyed his hair with a slight frown. He hadn’t gone this long without gelling it back. Draco went into the bedroom and got some clothes and his gel bottle out of his trunk. He glanced over at Harry as he went back to the bathroom, and saw his eyes were still closed, but he was in a different position than before.

Stopping in front of the mirror once more, Draco got dressed and picked up his trusty bottle of hair gel. He had got as far as opening it when gentle arms wrapped themselves around Draco’s waist.

“Don’t you dare put that in your hair,” Harry murmured, and placed a soft kiss on Draco’s ear lobe.

“Why ever not?” asked Draco smiling lazily while leaning back into Harry.

“I like the way your hair falls into your eyes,” Harry said, grinning at Draco via the mirror reflection. Draco set the bottle back onto the hand basin, and turned slightly so he could see Harry’s face.

“I thought you were asleep,” Draco said, brushing his lips over Harry’s jaw line.

“I was,” Harry said, his smile almost too innocent. Draco rolled his eyes, and looked into Harry’s dancing emerald eyes.

“Yeah, sure you were. Now get in the shower,” he said laughing.

“I’ll be happy to,” Harry grinned, and an evil gleam came into his eyes.

“I’m afraid I don’t fancy a second shower,” Draco added, smirking when Harry’s disappointed face proved that Draco had just read his mind correctly.

***** * ***   
**

A couple of rooms down, the two inhabitants were not as cheerful as our favorite hotties.

“Ronald, open this door right now!” shrieked Hermione, shoving in vain at the bathroom door.

“No! I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

“Well, Harry wants otherwise!” Hermione said. There was a silence, in which Hermione was hoping against hope Ron would listen, and then she saw the door handle turning. She stepped away from the door, and Ron’s head appeared from around it.

“What?” he asked flatly.

“I want to talk to you about Harry.”

Ron rolled his eyes, and opened the door fully. He walked into his bedroom, and sat on his bed. Hermione followed him, and stood in front of him.

“Just because he’s friends with –“

“A filthy ferret,” interrupted Ron.

“With Draco,” continued Hermione, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. “It doesn’t mean he’s not friends with us.”

Ron stared moodily at the floor, and Hermione took this as a sign to keep talking.

“I mean, personally I am very happy about their friendship. You remember what the Sorting Hat said, right? To unite together, before the war destroyed all hopes? Well, this is a perfect display of this.”

“But _Malfoy_! Think of all the terrible things he’s done to him, to all of us!” Ron said furiously. “He calls you a mudblood for Merlin’s sakes!”

“He _used_ to callme a mudblood. Not anymore, there’s a difference,” Hermione pointed out. Ron made a disbelieving noise, but didn’t look up from the floor.

“Look, Ron, I can’t see what you’ve got against them being friends, apart from the fact you hate Draco –“

“Oh, so its _Draco_ now, is it??” Ron interrupted, wrenching his gaze from the floor to look angrily at her. Hermione spun around on the spot, trying to control her frustration. She had forgotten how stubborn Ron could be.

“Ron! You’re not making this any easier! You could at least stop being so immature, and try to look at this from a neutral point of view!”

Ron lifted up his chin stubbornly, and looked at the wall behind Hermione.

“I just don’t want ferret taking… _Harry_ ,” he said Harry’s name jerkily and quickly, “Away from us.” There was something about Ron determinedly avoiding her gaze that made her think there was more to it than that. Then it hit her.

Ron wasn’t just jealous of Draco because he had become friends with Harry; he was scared Draco would take Hermione away from him too.

“Ron, Draco will never take Harry _or_ me away from you. We’ve been through too much to be separated. Although,” she added sharply. “If you keep being stupid like this, and ignoring him, Harry may take himself away from you.”

There was silence for a while, in which Hermione stood with her fingers crossed behind her back. Then –

“Alright, I’ll talk to Harry,” Ron sighed. “I guess I’ll have to accept Harry being friends with ferret. As long as I don’t have to call him _Draco,_ ” Ron shuddered at the thought.

“Ok,” Hermione laughed in spite of herself. “But don’t call him ‘ferret’ either.”

“Right, I’ll try to remember that,” Ron said, trying to look sincere but failing.

***** * ***   
**

As soon as Ron and Hermione walked into the kitchen where Harry and Draco were eating, Harry felt a difference in the way Ron was acting. Harry looked eagerly at Hermione, and she gave him a discreet nod and smile.

“Harry,” Ron began cautiously. “Er – we need to talk.”

Harry stood up and half smiled at Ron, and they left Draco and Hermione in the kitchen.

“Where do you want to talk?” Harry asked lightly.

“The living room would be ok,” Ron suggested. They went along to the lounge, and both sat down opposite each other with an air of politeness.

“Ok,” Ron said, after a short pause. “Um, I want to say that I – I’m sorry for the way I reacted when ferre - Malfoy came here. I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said.”

Harry’s face broke into a full smile; the cold barrier that had built it’s way up in the past few days had just melted.

“Thanks Ron. It means a lot, you accepting that I’m giving Draco a second chance.”

Ron shrugged, and said,

“Well, it was either carry on being a stubborn prat and lose our friendship, or understand that you want to be friends with Malfoy.” Ron scratched his nose before continuing. “But, I want you to be careful, and make sure that it’s not a trap. I just want you to know I’m looking out for you.”

Harry nodded, but honestly, he trusted Draco completely. Although, he didn’t say so to Ron.

“So we’re cool now?” Ron asked hesitantly. Harry stood up, and clapped a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“Of course, you’re my Wheezy! I wouldn’t give you up that easy.”

Ron grinned broadly, and the two boys left for breakfast.

***** * ***   
**

The main event of the morning was the Hogwarts owls arriving with their booklists. With a squirm of delight, they realized they were in all of the same classes. Both Harry and Draco were made Quidditch captain of their teams – Katie Bell, who was captain in Harry’s sixth year, had left Hogwarts now, and Draco’s old captain had also left. These appointments gave both boys a reality check; they had forgotten they were still sort of rivals.

“I can’t wait to see the outcome of Gryffindor vs Slytherin,” grinned Draco, as they climbed the stairs to their bedroom to put away their letters.

“My team will kick Slytherin’s ass,” Harry said, ducking when Draco attempted to capture Harry in a friendly headlock.

“Sure you will,” said Draco, opening the door to their room. “You haven’t seen my team yet.”

“Neither have you,” laughed Harry, chucking his letter in his trunk, and placing his badge on his bedside table.

“Sometimes, Potter, you are too confident for your own good,” Draco said cheekily, and tackled Harry onto his bed.

Before Harry could make any protests (Draco suspected he wouldn’t have protested anyways), Draco kissed him, fast and furiously. Harry moaned into him, and arched his back. Draco had been waiting for this moment alone; it had been hard, with all the excitement over the Hogwarts letters.

Draco pushed Harry’s shirt up, and Harry lifted it over his head. Draco leaned over Harry’s chest, and teased Harry by flicking his tongue quickly around his nipple. Harry gave another moan, and pressed his body closer, if that was possible, to Draco. Draco finally touched Harry’s nipple with his tongue, and began working his wicked tongue over it.

That one stiffened quickly, so Draco moved to lick the other. Harry was mumbling some incoherent words, eyes blissfully closed and hands holding tightly onto locks of Draco silky hair. Draco paused, trying to catch his breath, and Harry’s eyes opened. Emerald met Silver, and in that moment, there was a connection that shot between them, so that they both knew this was how it was meant to be.

Harry moved his leg to be in between Draco’s legs, and lightly touched their groins together. Draco let out a moan, and pulled off his own shirt, needing more skin to skin contact. Harry seemed to want to take control now, and pushed Draco onto his back, and began running trails on Draco’s neck with his tongue. Draco’s pants were absolutely tight; he was refraining from taking them off only because the others would wonder where they were if they took too long. And Draco had a feeling that they would be sorely tempted to take a long time if he removed his pants.

Breathless but in heaven, Draco reluctantly moved away slightly from Harry’s tongue, who took this as a sign to slow it down. Harry fell next to Draco and lay with his head on Draco chest, listening to both of their loud heartbeats.

After a few moments of calming down, Harry lifted his head to look at Draco’s face. His eyes were shining with passion and happiness – a nice change from the grief Harry had seen lately in his eyes.

“Draco,” Harry began quietly. “What are we going to do at Hogwarts?”

Draco remained silent for a second.

“Nothing will stop me from being with you Harry.”

“I mean, I know we’re in the same classes but people will get suspicious if we’re disappearing together all the time,” Harry replied. He looked at Draco with an anxious expression.

“You forget that I am a Slytherin, and I am very cunning when it comes to disappearing,” Draco said smiling slightly. “And anyways, even if people do find out, they can get fucked if they have a problem with it.”

Harry thought, still feeling a little doubtful.

“I won’t be able to go all day without seeing you,” grinned Harry.

“I’m flattered,” Draco answered, and sat up slightly. “Likewise for me.” Harry smiled graciously, and sat up too.

“We can’t stay up here too long,” said Harry, beginning to draw light circles with his finger on Draco’s torso.

“And yet, we can’t go down like this,” grinned Draco. “How complicated is our life?”

“Well…”

“It was a rhetorical question!!”

Harry smiled, and rolled off the bed. He stood up, and after a quick search, located his shirt.

“Come on Draco,” Harry said, taking his hand and attempting to pull him up. “We should go.”

“Alright,” Draco sighed, standing up very unwillingly.

The two boys put on their shirts, and Harry stood looking at Draco for a moment. He curled his arms around Draco’s slender waist, and kissed him once more. However, they should have been a little more wary; because a sly figure shut the door quietly, and slipped away quietly from where she had been standing in the doorway. Luckily for her, neither Harry nor Draco had even noticed her presence.

***** * ***   
**

“Where are they?” Hermione was wearing a very puzzled look, a look Ron seldom saw on her.

“I don’t know, Harry said they were just going up to put their letters away.”

Hermione frowned, and shrugged.

“And where is Ginny?”

Ron rolled his eyes, and shrugged as well.

“I don’t know Hermione, why are you so worried??”

“I’m not!” Hermione said sounding highly affronted. “I’m just… curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat Hermione,” said Ginny as she walked into the room, her eyes glinting strangely.

“You should have been dead long ago then Ginny.”

“Eat slugs Ronald.”


	9. Fireworks and Sparks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where the mild sexual content comes into play (pun definitely intended...!) Also, when I wrote this, we didn't know when Draco's actual birthday was, so I made it up. Call it creative license :P

_Chapter 9: Fireworks and Sparks_

*** * ***

The days flew by, quite easily since Ron had apologised and a certain blonde was making Harry’s life very happy indeed. Ginny and Hermione were very happy as well, and in short, this was (so far anyways) Harry’s best holidays yet. Before Harry even really realised it, it was the morning of his seventeenth birthday. He had just finished showering and was dressed, when Draco walked into the bathroom.

“Happy Birthday,” Draco said merrily, and kissed Harry on the cheek.

“How did you know? _I_ even forgot until today,” Harry replied bemused. Draco looked amused, and said,

“Hermione told me actually. She was talking about her gift for you. I’m sorry to say that I don’t have an _actual_ present for you. Except,” Draco kissed Harry slowly on the lips, “A bit more of this. I promise I will buy you something in Diagon Alley when we go though.”

“You don’t have to,” muttered Harry, looking away from Draco’s eyes shyly and scratching his nose absent-mindedly.

“I know,” said Draco, smirking lightly. “But I want to.”

“When’s your birthday?” Harry asked as he slipped his arms around Draco’s waist.

“The 3rd of August.”

“That’s when we’re going to Diagon Alley anyway. So I can buy you something as well,” Harry smiled. Draco turned from Harry’s embrace.

“You better go and see what Hermione got you. I must say, I’m a tiny bit jealous.”

“You! Jealous? I thought I’d never see the day,” Harry said mockingly, and Draco merely smiled and gave Harry a friendly shove.

“A bit of privacy, if you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind,” said Harry, smirking and leaning on the doorway. He changed his mind when he saw Draco reach for his wand (and not the magical kind), and shut the door behind him.

Harry had barely opened their bedroom door before an excited someone bounced into view.

“Happy Birthday Harry!” cried Ginny, jumping up and hugging him tightly. Before he suffocated, Harry ducked under her arms, and grinned at her. She thrust a present into his hands, so he opened it.

Inside was a pocket knife which, Harry realised with an uncomfortable jolt, was identical to the one Sirius had given him two and a half years ago.

“I mean, I know that your other one got ruined at…” Ginny trailed off, sounding slightly apprehensive compared to her earlier glee.

Harry looked up at her, and saw that she was waiting for a reaction.

“Thanks Ginny,” he said smiling, which didn’t take as much effort as it would have a couple of weeks ago. Harry fully owed that to Draco.

Ginny smiled as well, and hugged Harry again.

“Hey, you can use magic outside of school now, can’t you?”

“Yes, you’re right. And if you don’t stop hugging me soon, I may be forced to make use of this power!”

“Alright,” Ginny laughed, finally letting go of him.

Together Ginny and Harry walked down to the kitchen, where Mrs Weasley had prepared a lovely breakfast of crumpets and waffles, with whipped cream to top it off. Ron entered soon after Ginny and Harry, most likely guided by his nose.

“Hi mate, I have a present for you. I’ll give it to you after,” Ron said, piling his plate with waffles, and accidentally knocking over his glass of pumpkin juice in his haste to reach the cream.

“Yeah, that might be wise. I wouldn’t want to get food all over it,” Harry replied grinning.

Ron looked up and grinned back, but it faded slightly as he caught sight of something behind Harry. Harry turned, and an unconscious smile lit up his face when he saw Draco entering.

“Good morning Weasley, Ginny,” Draco nodded to Ron and smiled at Ginny. Draco then looked at Harry, and his smile grew slightly. “Harry.”

Harry smiled back at Draco. He turned his gaze away from Draco (unwillingly, of course) and looked at Ginny. She had a smile on her face also, but Harry thought he could see a shadow of a smirk. Before he could be sure, Ginny spoke.

“Hello Hermione,” she said, and Harry looked over his shoulder once more. Hermione walked in and came up to Harry.

“Happy Birthday Harry! You can use magic now, like me and Ron.”

“It’s great isn’t it?” Harry replied, smiling shyly at all the attention he was getting.

“I can’t wait to give you my present. I’ll just go and get it!” and without another word Hermione dashed out of the kitchen again.

“Have you cast any spells yet?” Ginny asked, laughing at Hermione’s excitement.

“No. To be honest, I actually forgot it was even my birthday today!”

Draco sat down at Harry’s left, and poured himself some pumpkin juice. For a moment, the only sound was the _cling_ of cutlery and the _bang_ of Ron’s second goblet of pumpkin juice went crashing over the table, because he had tried to balance his cup and waffles in one hand while spooning cream onto them with his other.

“Here we are Harry!” Hermione said as she bounced into the kitchen. She dumped a heavy present into his lap, and he winced slightly.

“What is this Hermione?”

“Open it and find out!”

Harry carefully ripped the wrapping paper off, and he smiled broadly when he saw what was lying in his lap.

“Wow Hermione, _The Guide to Perfecting Duel Strategies_! I heard about this book!!”

“I thought it may come in handy,” Hermione said, smiling at Harry. Harry thanked her, and set the book on the chair on his right to put away later.

Harry smiled contently as Hermione sat down and everyone continued eating breakfast while chatting about random things. He glanced at Draco, who had been looking at him also. Both boys shared a secret smile, and Harry knew that he was going to get the best present yet when they got a moment alone.

If only Harry knew Ginny had a scheme to get Harry alone too.

***** * ***  
**

After Ron had finished his fourth helpings of waffles and cream, and they had all tramped into the lounge, he presented Harry with a large stack of Quidditch magazines. He had seen magazines like this before, as Lavender and Parvarti had ogled the guys flexing their muscles that posed in various pages.

“I gave them to you so you can read the articles and stuff,” Ron explained hurriedly, after Ginny went into a fit of giggles.

“Thanks Ron,” Harry said, trying not to laugh. Somehow, Harry thought that reading the articles wouldn’t be the only thing he’d look at in the magazines, but he kept that notion to himself. “I’m going to take these upstairs now.”

“Have fun,” sniggered Ginny.

“Shut up,” Harry said over his shoulder.

Harry went into the kitchen to get _The Guide to Perfecting Duel Strategies_ to take upstairs as well.

When he reached his and Draco’s bedroom, he placed the magazines and book on the table beside his bed, and turned around to go back to the lounge. However, he had no chance to.

Harry had walked into someone – a very warm, familiar someone – who met him by slinging their arms around his neck and pulling him into a sweet kiss.

“Oh, Draco,” Harry sighed happily, who had missed the blonde’s touch. Draco must have followed him upstairs.

They broke apart and Harry looked into Draco’s silver eyes.

“I promise we’ll make tonight a really special night,” Draco breathed.

“I can’t wait,” Harry whispered back, tightening his hold on Draco. The teenagers stood there for a moment, simply needing each other’s bodies close.

“Come on, we better go,” Draco said eventually. “You said you were only bringing those magazines up here, and I didn’t exactly make an excuse.”

Harry kissed Draco, and smiled at him. He took Draco’s hand and pulled him out of the room. He let go at the top of the staircase, and together they walked to the lounge.

“Harry,” said Ginny casually from her seat of the sofa. “Are you busy at the moment? It’s just that I would like to talk to you.”

“Uh no, I’m not busy. Where do you want to talk?”

“Oh, just come up to my room with me.”

“Ok,” Harry replied, waiting for her and feeling quite confused and curious. Ginny stood up, and walked past Harry, giving him a knowing smile as they left the lounge. Harry heard Ron say,

“Why am I always the person who doesn’t have a damn clue what is going on??”

Harry disagreed, however. He had no idea why Ginny was pulling him to the side to talk to him. Unless it was about…

“So, Harry,” Ginny said after shutting the door to her and Hermione’s bedroom. He sat down on the end of what he presumed was Hermione’s bed, and looked at her.

“Uh… yeah?”

“Well, I just wanted to talk to you about something,” Ginny said, also sitting on Hermione’s bed.

“I was wondering… just out of curiosity, of course… are you going to christen your bed tonight, or Draco’s?”

The silence that followed was the most deafening Harry had ever witnessed.

“Er – wha… I, um…” Harry gulped. Then he shut up, as he was probably embarrassing himself further. His cheeks were flaming crimson, as though he was on fire.

“I just presumed, since it was your birthday, you’d do something… _special_ ,” Ginny said innocently, putting particular emphasis on the last two syllables.

“Uhhhh…”

Ginny grinned wickedly, and even through his shock, Harry recognized an uncanny resemblance to Fred and George’s evil looks.

“So, how long have you and Draco been together? I’m guessing since the beginning of the holidays, as you’re not that good at hiding things, and if you were together at Hogwarts I would have figured it out a lot sooner…” Ginny mused, Harry still too amazed to string words together.

“I must say, Draco _is_ very attractive, and I always thought you went for the more manly type…”

Ginny stopped talking and with the same grin, looked at Harry, who felt as if he couldn’t go much redder.

“Erm, Ginny… I…”

“Listen, you needn’t be so worried. I think it’s absolutely adorable.”

Harry couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“You… you do?” he stuttered.

“Yes, of course!” Ginny laughed. “And now, since you’ve admitted to it…”

“So, you didn’t _actually_ know??” Harry asked taken aback. If she hadn’t, he had just fallen into a bigger trap than even Voldemort could lay.

“Oh no, I knew. I saw you two, after all…” Ginny said, her grin returning widely. “I just thought it would take you awhile to admit it. I thought you’d try to deny it.”

“Oh.” Harry’s neck and ears were now burning; rivalling Ron’s when he got angry or embarrassed.

“You didn’t answer my earlier questions. You know, about how long you’d been together?”

“Um… since we arrived here,” Harry said. “And, er… Ginny… when exactly did you… _see us_?”

“Oh, it was a very… _heated_ moment that I walked in on. You were on top of Draco, absolutely devouring his neck. Who would have guessed such an innocent Gryffindor would be so dominant in the bedroom,” Ginny said, her smirk almost as wicked as Draco’s could get. “And Draco, the so-called Ice Prince, was moaning his head off, which I wouldn’t have expected, because of his usual calm composure.”

“Er…”

Ginny laughed, and continued.

“Very cute really. You two are good together.”

“So, you’re – you’re not angry at me?” Harry asked hesitantly. There was a silence, and then –

“What in Merlins name are you talking about! How could I ever be angry at you! At a simple thing such as sexuality, what’s more! Really Harry, you are so naïve,” Ginny said incredulously.

Harry let out a relieved sigh, and smiled at her.

“Well, I’m actually glad someone knows now. It was getting harder to keep it a secret.”

“Which leads me back to my first question. Who’s bed will it be in?”

“Ginny!!” Harry said loudly, growing red again, after his previous blush had faded. “I – you – don’t be so – er…”

Ginny giggled again, and shook her head.

“I didn’t _actually_ mean for you to answer Harry, it’s none of my business where you shag. You can shag in both beds, if you like.”

“Ginny…” Harry groaned, but couldn’t stay serious too long. He blushed harder, and lay back on Hermione’s bed. “Do you think Ron will hate me if I kill you now?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Ginny said grinning, lying down next to him. “You’re too innocent.”

“Whatever. Just… don’t tell Ron, ok?”

“No way, that is your job. I’d love to be there though, when you tell him, so I can see the look on his face,” Ginny said wistfully.

Harry chuckled reluctantly. No, when he told Ron he was with Draco, he would be well armed with an icepack, for when either Ron punched him, or fainted and hit his head.

***** * ***  
**

Dinner was a fun affair, as Fred and George turned up with a box of their own merchandise, which included a daydream pack about your ‘perfect’ person, a box of fireworks, and, of course, a big supply of Skiving Snackboxes.

Fred and George had also brought some fireworks to set off in celebration of Harry’s birthday, so Harry, Draco, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Mrs Weasley, Lupin and Tonks (who had both came to visit) sat in the lounge watching the colourful display bounce from wall to wall.

Draco was seated next to Harry on a slightly squished couch (which he didn’t mind at all), nearly having to sit in Harry’s lap due to the amount of people and lack of seats. He wondered again what Ginny had wanted to talk to Harry about. When Harry and Ginny had returned from upstairs, Draco was sitting in the lounge completing his Transfiguration essay.

Looking up at Harry, Draco had noticed that he had a pink tinge to his cheeks. He gave Harry a curious look, and Harry mouthed ‘Later’ to him.

Well, now was later, wasn’t it?

Everyone cheered as the last firework exploded about Harry’s head, and said ‘Have a very Harry Birthday!’ They said goodnight to Fred, George, Lupin and Tonks, and after they had flooed back to their respective homes, the teenagers climbed the stairs to their rooms.

Ginny and Hermione left them at the first landing, where Draco caught Ginny sending Harry an evil grin, and Harry blushing. Ron disappeared into a room on the second floor, and Harry and Draco both entered their room.

They both changed into their boxers, not as shamefacedly as they had been the night they had stayed at Lupins, and sat on their beds.

“So, are you going to tell me what Ginny wanted earlier?” Draco asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, blushing again. “Well… she sort of… caught us kissing… so she just wanted me to know that she knows about… us.”

Draco didn’t say anything for a moment, then rolled his eyes and grinned. “That girl is too smart for her own good.”

“Yeah, well we weren’t exactly the best secret-keepers in the world. She nearly caught us on the first day,” Harry shuddered at the thought. Draco laughed and agreed.

“At least we were only kissing when she saw us, unlike what I have planned now…” Draco sent Harry a sweet smile and watched as Harry sat up a fraction straighter and met Draco’s silver eyes with his emerald ones.

“That’s right, I seem to remember a certain promise you made this morning,” murmured Harry. He licked his lips almost unconsciously. That was enough for Draco. Swiftly pushing himself up from his bed, he had barely taken a step towards Harry’s bed when their lips met in the middle.

Draco slowly slid his fingers down Harry’s skin, smiling a little when Harry shivered beneath his touch. The action was quickly reciprocated when Harry pulled Draco closer. Their chests touched and Draco couldn’t hold back a quiet moan. This skin to skin contact was more arousing that he’d ever imagined.

Harry then moved his arms around Draco’s neck in order to kiss him deeply, and Draco began nudging Harry backwards, taking shuffling steps towards Harry’s bed. They bumped into it and nearly fell over, but Draco made sure his arms were securely holding Harry around the waist. He broke the contact with their lips and lightly kissed Harry’s shoulder.

“Lie down,” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear, in between kissing his skin. Harry gave a short gasp as Draco’s tongue flicked out.

“Wait… I should lock the door…” Harry said, breathless and flushed. Draco gave Harry an amused smile and waited until Harry had muttered a locking charm. Next second, Draco latched back onto Harry’s neck, eliciting a moan from him. Together they moved slowly, attached, so that Harry was lying properly on the bed. Draco held himself up with his knees either side of Harry’s thighs, and he brushed his erection against Harry’s with a gasp. This felt so good. They didn’t have to rush, they didn’t have to be afraid of anyone walking in on them… they could take all night if they really wanted to.

Draco began trailing his fingers lower over Harry’s chest, enjoying every shiver and gasp Harry let out. Darker hair could be found closer and closer to his boxers, and Draco swallowed a moan at the touch. To experiment, Draco slipped a slender finger under the waistband of Harry’s boxers. Harry gave a breathy moan. Draco looked down at Harry and saw that his eyes were closed.

“Harry? Look at me.” Draco was almost shocked to hear how husky his voice was, but found he didn’t much care. Harry’s eyes fluttered open and silver locked onto emerald for a long moment. It was like they both understood the other perfectly.

Then Harry smiled – a sign for Draco to carry on. He slipped all of his hand under the silky material, and with a sharp intake of breath, Draco gently reached down and stroked Harry.

“Oh Merlin, Draco…” Harry’s eyes were squeezed shut again as he moaned again. He automatically arched his back slightly to push his groin up, and Draco felt Harry’s pre-cum slide over his fingers. Draco smiled and moved to kiss Harry deeply.

“Wait…” Harry gasped. “I want to…” Harry swallowed and lifted his hand to touch Draco’s visible erection through his boxers. Draco shuddered as a surge of sparks swept their way around his body. He thrust into Harry’s hand and their moans combined as they began moving together. It was more intense than Draco could ever have imagined, and he could tell that this was where he was meant to be. So perfect.

Harry was breathing unsteadily and he arched his back fully now so that both of their erections were mere centimetres away. They thrust into each other. Then came a spilt second where Harry’s eyes flew open for Draco to see the strong desire in them. Then Harry came into Draco’s hand, and Draco couldn’t hold out any longer and came too, both boys panting and clutching onto the other for support, the sleepy aftermath reaching out for them.

“That,” Harry said when he was able to speak. “Was the best present ever.” Draco smiled through a yawn and muttered a quick cleaning spell. He fell onto Harry and wrapped his arms around his waist securely.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” he murmured back, eyes closing already. Harry laughed and kissed Draco’s soft hair.

“That I did.” And the two boys slipped into a content sleep, warm and curled up together.


	10. The Real Thing is Always Much Better!

_Chapter 10: The Real Thing is Always Much Better!_

*** * ***

“Harry…”

Draco whispered his name from where he was lying amidst white silky sheets.

“Harry…”

“Harry!!! Wake up right this instant, or I will be forced to suffocate you with my pillow!”

Feeling dazed and sleepy, Harry awoke from his particularly blissful dream.

“Huh?” he yawned. And then he went to draw breath again, and realized that a certain someone was sitting on top of him, making it hard to breathe.

“Draco, get off me!” Harry said, sitting up and making Draco, who was smaller than Harry, slide from his chest.

“Well, you weren’t waking up. I was just contemplating hitting you ‘round the head with my pillow… but you woke up before I had the chance,” Draco grinned cheekily. Harry realized that Draco was already dressed, looking very hot in his silk shirt, which was carefully left unbuttoned at the top.

“For your information, I was having a nice dream before you rudely woke me up!”

“Yes… but the real thing is much better than dreams, don’t you think?” Draco said smirking, and he lent over to Harry and kissed him.

Harry smirked back at Draco, and got out of bed.

“Why are you up so early anyways?”

“Well… Ginny came in and said we had to hurry if we wanted to get to Diagon Alley today. So I got up, and let you have a little sleep in. After all, I thought you may be tired after our little escapade last night.”

Harry blushed, and opened his mouth to deny it, but something else suddenly struck him.

“Hey, did you say Ginny came in here before either of us had got up?”

Draco’s smirk grew wider.

“Yeah, I guess your locking charm must have worn out.”

Harry groaned and slapped his forehead with his hand.

“Great, another thing for her to tease me about.”

“I don’t mind,” Draco said. “You look adorable when you blush.”

“And I never thought I’d hear you of all people call me adorable,” Harry said, and he gathered up some clothes and went into the bathroom. After dumping his clothes on the floor, Harry paused and turned back to face Draco.

“By the way Draco… Happy Birthday.”

Draco beamed.

***** * ***   
**

A mere hour later Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Mrs Weasley were all standing in the back yard of the Leaky Cauldron, having been transported there via a portkey. Draco had no shame in _accidentally_ (on purpose!!) stumbling into Harry and falling over on him. This had caused Harry to flush pink and glare at the sniggering Draco, and Ginny to poke Harry in the ribs after he had helped Draco up.

Mrs Weasley now dug inside one of her many pockets and pulled out her wand. She tapped the corresponding bricks in the wall, and they all stepped back as an archway grew in front of them.

“Wait a moment dears!” Mrs Weasley cried as the five teenagers started to move into Diagon Alley. “I really must go and visit some people; Kingsley Shaklebolt, Elphia Doge, Hestia Jones… and I’m afraid that will take until about three o’clock this afternoon. Now, can I trust you all to stay in Diagon Alley, and not get into trouble, for five hours?”

Ron and Ginny’s “Yes Mum!” were joined by the chorus of “Yes, Mrs Weasley,” from Draco, Harry and Hermione.

“Good,” Mrs Weasley said. She shook her finger threateningly. “Then I want you all back here at three o’clock, not a minute later!”

And with that Mrs Weasley hurried off as fast as her feet would allow. The five teenagers looked at each other.

“Sweet!” said Ginny, a grin spreading over her face. “Five hours in Diagon Alley, with no adult to take care of us!”

Draco smiled awkwardly. He had been doing his school shopping alone since his third year at Hogwarts.

“Come on, we should get to Gringotts,” Hermione said. The others nodded, so they made their way through the crowd. Draco noticed the crowd was much smaller than usual; probably the knowledge of escaped Death Eaters scared shoppers away.

“Hey,” Harry said lightly, falling in step with Draco. “Did you know you look rather hot with brown hair and brown eyes?”

Draco wrinkled his nose and ran a hand through his much shorter, brown hair. Mrs Weasley and Hermione had both insisted he have some glamour charms put upon him, because of the Ministry officials supposedly looking for him.

“Nah, I prefer blonde hair.”

“Me too,” said Harry grinning, and Draco made to slap the back of Harry’s head, but Harry ducked. Draco caught Harry’s arm as Harry tried to grab him, and laughed.

However, their little play-fight was stopped short, because they had just entered Gringotts and the goblins at the entrance were looking at them strangely.

“Guys, me and Ron will wait here for you; we already have our money,” said Ginny. She and Ron moved over to the side, and Harry, Draco and Hermione approached a desk.

“Excuse me. I’d like to make a withdrawal, my name is Hermione Granger,” Hermione said briskly to the goblin in front of them, placing her vault key on the desk.

“Right. Any other business?”

“Yes,” said Harry quickly. “I’d like to make a withdrawal from Harry Potter’s vault.”

“You have the key?”

“Oh, yes, here’s my key.”

“I would also like to make a withdrawal,” Draco said smoothly. “From Draco Malfoy’s vault.”

The goblin stared with slightly narrowed eyes at Draco.

“You’re not master Malfoy.”

“No, I’m his friend though. I have his key, you can even check it.” Draco handed over the key and the goblin held it up to the light to examine.

“Hm, yes, this is the real key. Well, I’ll have someone take you to all three vaults.”

The goblin stepped down from his position behind the desk, and walked over to a cart and another goblin. Draco, Harry and Hermione followed, walking past Ron and Ginny as they did so. Draco saw that Ron was looking increasingly resentful.

“Ron’s sure being quiet today,” Harry said, his gaze also directed at Ron.

“Yes,” Hermione said shrewdly. “Yes, I still think he’s jealous of Draco, even though he apologised to you, Harry.”

“Why can’t he just be happy that Draco’s on our side?” Harry said exasperatedly but quietly, so no nosy people overheard.

It seemed Hermione had no answer to that. Draco sighed. _Poor Harry._

After a quick visit to the teenagers’ vaults, they met Ron and Ginny in the Main Hall, and exited Gringotts.

“I suppose we should go to Flourish and Blotts first, huh, to get the most boring things first,” Ron spoke up. Hermione made a small affronted noise, but the other three laughed, and Ron gave a smile.

By the time they had purchased all their books, Ron had warmed up a lot, and even laughed at a joke Draco made, about how Hermione seemed to have bought more non-compulsory books about her subjects than compulsory books.

“I seem to remember a certain promise you made on my birthday,” Harry said grinning while nudging Draco in the ribs.

“Oh?” Draco said, his eyes on the shops they were passing.

“Yes, that’s right. You promised you’d buy me a present when we visited Diagon Alley. Of course, I said you didn’t have to…”

“But I am,” Draco said, and he suddenly smiled. “We are going into _this_ shop!” And without further ado, he grabbed Harry’s forearm, and pulled him through the doorway.

Draco looked around happily; he lived in shops like this. It had lots of sparkling chimes hanging from the ceiling, either emitting beautiful music or deafening shrieks. There were lots of displays of knick knacks, which included stationary (but out-of-the-ordinary stuff), accessories for clothing, and pretty boxes.

“Um… what are we doing in here?” Harry asked, feeling lost.

“This is a _gift_ shop, Harry. I’m buying a _gift_ for you.”

“Some gift shop,” Ginny said admiringly, who had entered with Hermione and Ron after them.

Draco let out a quiet gasp, and hurried over to a jewellery cabinet.

“Harry, look!”

Harry wandered over to Draco, and when he noticed where they were, he said,

“No way Draco! I don’t do jewellery!”

“Harry,” whispered Draco, his eyes upon a pair of necklaces which were crossed over each other to make an ‘X’.

The two necklaces were identical, and seemed to sell as a pair. They had skinny, silver chains, and had a tear drop shaped pendant. The tear drops were sparkling jewels, a startling green colour, and were glistening in the summer sun. Draco lent forwards to read the label.

_The jewels encrusted in these necklaces came from an ‘Antipodean Opaleye’ Dragon’s scales, which are multi-coloured. This makes the jewels immensely strong and glittery. When two people who share a special friendship or bond wear these necklaces, special powers become activated within the necklace’s jewel. The jewel glows brightly on one person’s necklace if the other wearer is in danger. The two necklaces can be bought for forty galleons._

“Harry…” Draco started, in an imploring voice.

“What?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Could we _please_ go halves on these necklaces, and then we could have one each?? It would be each other’s birthday presents!!”

“Draco, I don’t do jewellery! Do you realise how gay that would make me??” Harry hissed, obviously trying not to shout.

“Yes, that’s part of the appeal,” Draco said smugly.

“No. Nothing you can say will change my mind either.”

“No even if I…” Draco lent closer to Harry, under pretence of examining the necklaces, and sucked on Harry’s ear lobe. “… Try to persuade you?”

“Draco! Ron and Hermione are just over there,” Harry said warningly, and Draco was pleased to note he sounded slightly breathless.

“What if I don’t care?” Draco murmured, and trailed his tongue down the side of Harry’s neck, stopping near his shoulder at a place he knew was Harry’s weak spot.

“Draco…” Harry said, his voice losing conviction with every flick of Draco’s tongue.

Draco turned around slightly so that he could see Harry’s face, and captured his lips with a sweet kiss. Harry moaned quietly, and pulled away. He looked at the necklaces, and then at Draco’s pleading face.

“I suppose they aren’t that bad,” Harry muttered while chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. “They _would_ be useful.”

“And they match your eyes,” Draco said, his smile steadily growing bigger.

“Ok, we’ll get them,” Harry decided.

Draco was so excited that he let out a very girlish squeal and jumped onto Harry, wrapping his arms and legs around Harry’s body. Harry flushed pink, but laughed despite himself.

“How obvious do you guys want to be?” asked a female voice in Draco’s ear, making him start and let go of Harry.

“Um…”

“It was a rhetorical question,” Ginny said smirking. “You guys are lucky Hermione and Ron are a little busy.”

Draco looked over at Ron and Hermione (who were on the other side of the shop) and saw that Hermione was poring over an ancient book, talking animatedly to Ron, and that Ron was staring at Hermione, apparently not taking in a word Hermione was saying.

The three teenagers laughed, and Draco opened the cabinet and took the two necklaces out. Draco and Harry went up to the desk, and paid twenty galleons each. Ginny went over to Hermione to try and pull her away from the book while Draco and Harry put on their necklaces.

“What are you wearing?” Ron asked incredulously, his eyes on Harry’s necklace.

“They are what you call necklaces, Ronald,” Ginny said, her left eyebrow raised.

“Wow, I didn’t think you were the jewellery type Harry,” Ron sniggered.

“I’m not,” Harry insisted. “It’s just… um…”

“It’s just that it matches his eyes so perfectly, don’t you agree?” Draco said, smirking at Harry.

“Yeah…” Ron said, trying hard not to laugh. Harry groaned, and left the shop ahead of the others.

“Come on, I have to meet Oliver soon.”

Draco’s happy heart sunk a bit. Damn, he had forgotten about that.

“Are you still going to go?” Draco asked Harry as he caught up with the Gryffindor.

“Of course I’m going! Why wouldn’t I?” Harry asked, frowning slightly.

Draco just shook his head and said, “Don’t worry. I… I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“What, are you jealous?” Harry asked, smirking lightly, but it disappeared when he saw Draco’s flat expression. “Look, I’ll be fine. He’s my friend; what could possibly happen?”

Draco shrugged, and said nothing more on the subject all the way to the Leaky Cauldron.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I’ll probably just meet you in the back yard at three o’clock, ok?” Harry said, looking up the stairs that led to the rooms of the Leaky Cauldron.

“Sure,” Hermione replied, and then turned to Ron. “So Ron, is there anywhere you want to go?”

“I can think of a few places,” Ron said smiling, and left the Leaky Cauldron back into Diagon Alley.

“Harry!” cried someone behind Draco, and he turned, bracing himself for the worst.

Oliver Wood came bounding down the stairs, and met Harry with a big hug. Draco felt a stab of annoyance, and scowled.

“Hey Oliver! Congrats on winning the League!” Harry said, grinning widely. Oliver let go of Harry and grinned back at him.

“Thanks. It’s great to see you again! My room is number four, let’s go.”

And without half a glance at Draco or Ginny, Harry and Oliver climbed the stairs to Oliver’s room.

Draco’s scowl deepened, and he sat down at the nearest table. He put his bags onto the chair beside him, crossed his arms grumpily, and directed a deadly glare at the Salt and Pepper shakers. When he realised that Ginny hadn’t gone, he looked up at her.arrHaHhhjhhjhhjkhlhfdlashldhsflajhdsflhadsjvjmn vmc 4rqiy9148375

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked.

“I’m going to sit here and wait for Harry finish having a cup of tea with _Oliver_ ,” Draco said, trying hard not to sound bitter.

“I have a feeling Harry’s going to stay longer than a couple of minutes,” Ginny said. She sat down opposite Draco, and looked into his eyes.

“Whatever,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Look,” Ginny said with an odd expression on her face. “Harry likes you. He won’t do anything with Oliver.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Draco spluttered.

“Come on. Come shopping with me. I’m sure you’d have fun buying some new clothes! We could get manicures and pedicures; have our hair dyed pink…” Ginny grinned. “A girl’s afternoon.”

Draco raised his eyebrow, amused, and gave a tiny smile.

“All right. I just have a funny feeling that Oliver is up to something.”

“Trust me, Harry knows how to defend himself,” Ginny said standing up. “You can do magic now, can’t you? Well, you can shrink all our bags so they can fit in our pockets, so we have free hands to carry loads more bags!”

Ginny looked so energised that Draco laughed, and nodded reluctantly.

“Ok. As long as I don’t have to dye my hair pink.”

“Deal.”


	11. And I’m the Minister for Magic

_Chapter 11: And I’m the Minister for Magic_

*** * ***

Despite his earlier reluctance, Draco immensely enjoyed his “girl’s afternoon” with Ginny (although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but her!). He purchased new silk shirts, and new dark jeans. Draco found some heavenly Eau-de-cologne, which he happily paid fifteen galleons for. He was sorely tempted to buy a pair of very sexy leather pants, but he thought they would make him ‘too gay’.

And, despite her earlier promise, Ginny bought Draco some pink hair dye, and gave it to him as a birthday present. When he protested, however, Ginny tapped her pocket where her wand was and reminded him how skilled she was at Bat Bogey Hexes, and Draco accepted the hair dye without further complaint.

“After all,” he said hurriedly. “Pink hair could be fun.” Draco then made a note to self: Don’t make deals with Weasleys.

There was an uncomfortable moment for Draco when Parvarti and Padma Patil saw Ginny, and came over to chat. Or, as Draco more accurately described, came over to flirt with Draco. Ginny told the twins that Draco was in England for a holiday, and he was actually from Italy. This simple statement sent both Parvarti and Padma into giggling fits, saying in delight, “Guys from Italy are like, so hot!”

When Draco and Ginny had finally shaken off the Patil twins, they realized it was nearly three o’clock, so they made their way to the back yard of the Leaky Cauldron. Ron and Hermione were already waiting there, but Harry was obviously not there yet.

“Hi Draco, hi Ginny,” Hermione said, and she started digging in one of her shopping bags to find something. “Here Draco, it’s your birthday present. Sorry it’s not wrapped,” Hermione said and handed a heavy book to Draco.

It was titled _Spells for the Masters_ , and Draco nearly dropped it due to it’s size.

“Thanks Hermione,” Draco said, a little shyly. “You didn’t have to.”

“No. That’s why I did,” said Hermione matter-of-factly. “So, how was your afternoon?”

“Absolutely wonderful,” answered Ginny. “Honestly, Draco is more of a shopaholic than any girl I’ve ever met. Including the Patil twins.” Ginny gave Draco a knowing wink, and he groaned, burying his face in her shoulder. She giggled, and shrugged him off.

Ron fixed Draco with an odd look, but before he could figure out what it was about, Draco saw Harry coming towards them, looking relieved.

“Thank gods Mrs Weasley isn’t here yet,” Harry said as he joined them. “Oliver and I lost track of the time.”

Draco stiffened slightly at the name Oliver, but moved to make room for Harry to stand next to him anyway. Harry smiled at him, and Draco smiled uncertainly back, but was spared having to say something when Mrs Weasley’s shrill voice called to them.

“Good to see you’re all here on time,” she said reprovingly, and then shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s too risky to set up yet another unauthorized portkey, so we have to just take the London underground back.”

It was a quiet train ride back to Grimmauld Place. Hermione and Ginny chatted quietly, but Ron moodily crossed his arms, and Mrs Weasley sat a couple of seats away from them, sorting out pieces of parchment. Harry said a couple of things to Draco, but Draco gave short replies. He felt rather tired, but didn’t think it was from getting up early. Something about Oliver made him feel extremely uneasy.

When they had arrived back, and Mrs Weasley had lifted the glamour charms from Draco, the five teenagers headed upstairs to their respective bedrooms. Draco extracted all the bags from his pocket, and made them re-grow to their original size. He sucked in a deep breath, looking at all his shopping. It would take a hell of a long time to put it all away.

Next thing he felt warm arms curl around his slender waist, and soft lips brush the tip of his left ear. Draco involuntarily let out a sigh, and despite his slightly hostile feelings towards Harry, he lent back into his chest and closed his eyes.

“So did you have a good afternoon?” Harry murmured into Draco’s hair.

“Mmm, I went off with Ginny. We didn’t want to watch Weasley… er, _Ron_ … making eyes at Hermione.” Draco stopped, and bit his lip. “How did it go with… Oliver,” he asked finally, nearly choking on the name.

“Really well actually,” Harry said, and slid his hands under Draco’s shirt to stroke his flat stomach. “Yeah, he’s a big hit with Puddlemere United. He has a couple of trophies already. It was really great to see him.”

“Oh yes, I suppose he thought it was great to see you too,” Draco said, more bitterly than he intended.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Harry demanded, sounding confused.

“You saw him.”

“No, I was walking around with my eyes closed, Draco. What do you mean!”

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off you!” Draco said loudly, and ripping Harry’s hands from under his shirt, twirled around to face Harry. Harry was looking confused and angry at the same time.

“He wasn’t doing anything! He was just happy to see me.”

“Sure. And I’m the Minister for Magic.”

“Draco! Don’t you trust me? Is that what this is about! _I’m_ the one who should be having trust issues; you are the son of the cruelest Death Eater alive.”

Draco could tell that as soon as Harry had said it he regretted it. Yet, that fact didn’t make the blow less powerful. He turned away from Harry quickly, trying to blink away the tears that were prickling his eyes.

“Draco… I…”

“Don’t talk to me,” Draco cut across Harry, trying to stop his voice shaking.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“You said it. Of course you mean it.” He could hardly remember his voice being this icy.

There was a long silence, in which Draco knelt down next to his bags and began unloading his clothes. He picked up his pink hair dye, and set it beside his trunk. He would dye it another day.

“He asked me back. He going to be in Diagon Alley for another week, and he said he wanted me to visit him again in a few days,” Harry broke the silence hesitantly.

“What!” Draco turned to face Harry despite himself. “And you’re going to go!”

When Harry didn’t answer, Draco felt a wave of disbelief engulf him.

“No way. This is not happening.” Draco shook his head, and looked back at his shopping. “No way.”

“He’s my friend, Draco,” Harry said firmly, but Draco could hear the desperation in his tone.

“Well I think he wants to be more than your friend,” stated Draco coolly, still folding his clothes neatly in his trunk.

“Oliver isn’t even gay!” Harry cried, grabbing his messy hair in seemly exasperation.

“I don’t think I’ll waste my breath on saying another sarcastic comment like ‘And I’m the Minister for Magic’.”

“God Draco! I’m going to go and see him again, and that’s all there is to it. If you don’t like it, well… that is your problem.” There was another silence, and Draco stood up.

“You can tell Mrs Weasley not to bother cooking dinner for me. I’m not hungry, and I’m going to bed.” And without even sparing a glance to Harry, Draco strode to his bed, tore off his clothes and threw them into his open trunk, pulled on his boxers, and got into bed. He purposely closed his eyes and bit his cheek in fury. He listened to Harry huffing loudly and walking to the door. He closed the door with a little more force than necessary.

Draco opened his eyes, and turned over in his bed. Even though it was barely five o’clock, the last thing he wanted to do was to sit at the dinner table with all the conflict between him and Harry.

Sighing heavily, Draco turned over once more. His eyes were killing him to stay open, yet he couldn’t sleep with all that was on his mind. It was going to be a long night.

***** * ***   
**

Harry sat in the lounge with Ron, Hermione and Ginny for about an hour until dinner was ready. When Hermione had asked him where Draco was, Harry simply said that Draco was absolutely exhausted and had fallen asleep. He felt bad about lying though, as it was his fault Draco wasn’t coming to dinner.

He didn’t join in with his friends conversations over the dinner table; Harry mostly sat quietly, pushing his food around his plate. He wasn’t particularly hungry either.

As soon as the majority of the people dining (Mrs Weasley; Ron; Hermione; Ginny; Lupin, who had stopped in to talk to Mrs Weasley along with Tonks; Mr Weasley; and, of course, Harry) had decided to start washing the dishes, Ginny caught up with Harry on the stairs.

“Ok, what’s the deal? Something must have happened for Draco not to come to dinner, and you not eating anything.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry said tiredly, not wanting to think about it at all. “Just a little… disagreement.”

“You’re making it so easy for me to picture your fight,” Ginny said sarcastically.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, how can I fix it?”

“It’s none of your business!” Harry said angrily, and then suddenly realized what he had said. “I mean… I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

“No offence taken,” said Ginny calmly, brushing it off lightly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’ll figure it out on your own. It’s just… you looked sadder than you have for weeks.”

Harry attempted to smile at her, but was pretty sure he’d failed.

“Good night Gin. Thanks anyway.”

Harry made his way upstairs, and entered his and Draco’s bedroom. He looked over at Draco, and saw that his eyes were still closed, and he was breathing gently and evenly. Harry guessed he was genuinely asleep.

Sighing once more, Harry changed into his pyjamas and got into bed. Usually he’d be having a full-on makeout session with Draco about now. Fat chance of that. And it was his fault too.

Harry closed his eyes and willed sleep to come. Maybe Draco would be perfectly friendly in the morning. Maybe it was just because Draco really was tired.

Maybe he was completely and utterly wrong…

_There were two men kneeling on the ground in front of a tall and thin cloaked person. They were in a small room which was decorated with a long portrait, which Harry couldn’t see as it was so dark. The only source of light was a small fire in the corner of the room._

_“Did Lucius tell you of the plan?” asked an icy voice, one Harry had heard many times before._

_“Yes, my Lord,” said the bulkier man swiftly. “I have one question though – where do we bring the muggles once we find them?”_

_The air seemed to become denser; Lord Voldemort brought his pale fingers together and narrowed his red, already slit eyes, if that was possible._

_“Lucius has volunteered his dungeons. You will return here with the muggles, and take them to the first dungeon on the right. It is just around the corner of this room.” Voldemort paused for a moment, then flexed his fingers. “Now, do you want to be reminded of what will happen if you fail again?” he asked threateningly, but softly._

_The man who had spoken before shrank to the floor, and the other man said, “No, no, my Lord. We remember well enough. It’s just… we didn’t mean to let them escape… they just… did.” The second man had a look of terror on his face as he muttered these last words, and he suddenly covered his face with his hands._

_“I will not suffer another mistake from you!” Voldemort near shouted. “Crucio!”_

_The two men in front of Voldemort writhed and screamed louder than Harry had ever heard anyone scream before. The fire in the corner flickered, and nearly got extinguished._

_After what seemed like hours, the men stopped yelling, and lay still, struggling to draw breath, and groaning in pain._

_“You will not fail.”_

Harry awoke very abruptly, as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head. Sitting up quickly, Harry glanced around the bedroom. It was still dark, so he presumed it was the early hours of the morning. He looked over at Draco, and saw that he was fast asleep.

He realized that he was shivering and his teeth were chattering. Harry pulled the blankets closer to him, and he lay back down against his pillows.

Surely that dream wasn’t true. What had happened? Voldemort was talking to two men… about a plan to kidnap someone… muggles… and they were to take the muggles back to the dungeons… Harry’s mind was spinning. Whose dungeons were they? Harry thought for a whole minute before he remembered. Of course, Lucius Malfoy’s! That meant the muggles would be taken to the Malfoy Manor.

Harry turned over in his bed, and attempted to get comfortable. For the last couple of nights he had been used to Draco’s reassuring body next to him; tonight, however he was alone. Draco had retreated to his own bed, and Harry didn’t dare to go and sleep with him.

 _Ok,_ Harry decided. _I’ll tell someone about my dream after breakfast. Preferably Dumbledore. He’d know if it was real or not._

***** * ***   
**

Predictably, when Harry woke up, Draco’s bed was empty. There was no sound coming from the bathroom, so that led Harry to assume Draco was at breakfast.

Harry showered and dressed quickly, but when he walked across the room to go down to the kitchen, he hesitated. He really didn’t feel like facing Draco. But, it was as Dumbledore said. One day, Harry would have to face Voldemort again; so one day, Harry would have to face Draco again. And that day was today.

Taking a breath, Harry descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. Hermione, Ginny and Draco were sitting eating cereal and toast. Hermione was reading the Daily Prophet, and Ginny and Draco were talking. Ginny looked up as Harry sat down next to Hermione, but both Hermione and Draco did not. Harry thought he knew why Hermione didn’t; because she was so engrossed in the paper. He knew for sure why Draco didn’t though.

As Harry helped himself to cereal, Hermione suddenly said “Oh!” and flattened out the paper so she could read something easier.

“Listen to this!” she said, her eyes widening. “The heading is ‘Search still on for the youngest Malfoy’.”

Draco, who had just been about to drink from his goblet, lowered it slowly. He looked at Hermione attentively.

“ _‘Ministry officials have so far had no luck in searching for Draco Malfoy, who disappeared nearly three weeks ago. His disappearance was the same time that Narcissa Malfoy, his mother, was found dead in the Entrance Hall of her own house, and also when Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban with several other known Death Eaters. Officials agree that all these events are linked, but still there is no sign of Draco. However, yesterday morning a teenage boy with short brown hair and brown eyes entered Gringotts bank, and withdrew some money from Draco Malfoy’s vault. He had the original key, and said that he was ‘a friend’ of Draco’s. Whether this boy knows the whereabouts of Draco Malfoy remains to be seen. Ministry officials urge anyone who knows where this boy or Draco Malfoy is to tell them immediately.’_ Gosh, they are taking it seriously, aren’t they!” Hermione finished.

Harry looked up at Draco, and Draco merely smiled at the paper.

“There goes that disguise then.”

As soon as Draco and Ginny had finished eating they disappeared off upstairs, so Harry lingered around with Hermione. They went into the living room, where Hermione started reading her new Potions text book.

“Hermione,” Harry said, noticing something. “Where is Ron?”

“Oh, he went to visit Fred and George. They needed him to help them. Pretty brave of him, if you ask me,” Hermione said, putting down her book. “He’s going to be gone for a couple of nights.”

“Right.” Harry fingered his necklace from Draco absentmindedly. He knew Hermione would probably be able to sort out his problem with Draco, but that meant telling her about them.

“There’s something bothering you,” stated Hermione. Harry looked at her, and sighed inwardly. He would have to tell her one day anyway.

“Yeah, me and Draco had a fight.”

“But you’ve been getting on so well. I think it’s really good that you’re friends,” Hermione smiled.

“Well… yes we have been getting on well, haven’t we. But… well, we – er – we’re more than friends.”

Harry held his breath, but he shouldn’t have been so worried. Hermione grinned, and said, “Well, yes, I sort of guessed there was something going on. I wondered when you’d confess.”

Feeling incredibly relieved, Harry let his breath go.

“Ginny guessed as well. You girls are too observant.”

Hermione laughed, and said, “Well, I think it’s very good. Especially if it makes you as happy as you’ve been for the last three weeks. But, you said you’d had a fight?”

“Yes,” Harry sighed. “About Oliver. He thinks Oliver is up to something, inviting me back. I disagree.”

“Why is he suspicious of Oliver?” Hermione asked, frowning in thought. “I wonder if he knows something we don’t.”

“He would tell me though,” Harry said uncomfortably. “I think it’s just his gut instinct. But… my gut instinct doesn’t say anything’s wrong.” Even as he said that his stomach clenched a little. But it left as soon as it arrived. “I… I accused him of not trusting me. I didn’t think before I said it. I brought up his father.”

“That wasn’t very sensible,” Hermione said, shaking her head in amusement and disbelief. “You should apologize to him.”

“I know.”

They sat in silence for a while, then Hermione picked up her book and smiled.

“Well, what are you waiting for Harry? Go upstairs and beg for mercy.”

“I sure hope you weren’t thinking of that in a dirty way,” laughed Harry, getting up from the sofa. “That would be slightly disturbing.”

Hermione’s giggles followed him up the stairs and to the door of his and Draco’s bedroom. The door was shut, and he could hear Ginny giggling also.

He opened the door, and his mouth fell open. Standing in the middle of the room was Draco and Ginny. Ginny was standing back from Draco, as though admiring her handiwork. And Harry knew why.

Draco’s hair was a shockingly hot pink. Instead of the platinum blonde locks falling loose by his face, he now sported pink hair which was spiked up very punk-like.

“Oh my gosh,” Harry said finally. Draco’s face was impassive, like he had put on the mask he had cast away three weeks ago.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Ginny said. As she passed Harry she gave him an encouraging smile, and she shut the door behind her.

Harry stood staring at Draco for a little while, and then, very suddenly, ran to Draco and wrapped his arms around him in a huge hug. He felt Draco hugging him back, and he nearly cried in relief.

“I am so sorry for all the things I said to you yesterday, I’m sorry for not trusting you, I’m sorry for mentioning your father, I’m sorry – “

But Harry got cut short when Draco pressed his lips to his own. He had missed Draco so much, and their fight didn’t even last a day. Harry kissed Draco back with equal fervour, loving every moment. They broke apart, and Draco’s cheeks were flushed with happiness.

“I forgive you,” he said, holding Harry closer (if that was possible). “Do you like my hair?”

Harry laughed and placed his cheek next to Draco’s.

“It is very radical, and gay. I think it just might grow on me. Did Ginny persuade you?”

“Yes,” Draco replied. “It’s not permanent though. It’ll only last about five days. Make the most of it while you can.”

And without another word, Draco pulled Harry onto his bed and started to snog the daylights out of him.


	12. Who the hell is Frodo?

_Chapter 12: Who the hell is Frodo?_

*** * ***

The dark room looked slightly familiar to Harry, as if he had been there before. A man was kneeling in front of a tall man, and Harry knew that he had seen them before.

His last dream had had exactly these people in exactly this room.

“So,” a silky but cold voice said. “You come to me to ask for something. Which, I must say, if awfully brave, or very foolish of you.”

“My Lord, I have come to ask if we could… c-could re-schedule our kidnapping on the two muggles?” The bulky man from Harry’s other dream now said, trailing off towards the end.

“And why,” hissed Voldemort. “Would you wish to do that?”

“Well, you see… I’m meeting someone on the same day that you said we should kidnap them.”

Lord Voldemort actually snorted, and drew out his wand.

“Who could possibly be more important to see than to carry out your master’s most important task!”

There was a long pause, in which Voldemort held his wand, poised to strike the man, and the man shivered on the ground. Finally there came a mumbled response, and Voldemort lowered his wand.

“Indeed. I can see that you tell me no lie.”

Lord Voldemort considered the man in front of him, idly twirling his wand around in his fingers.

“Alright, you shall meet the boy. But I have thought of another, more important task for you now…” Voldemort laughed cruelly. “Yes. We shall re-schedule the kidnap, for we have a better job.”

“Pray tell… my Lord,” the man said. “What is this… wonderful… task that you wish me to do?”

Voldemort laughed again. “You shall seduce him. Give him firewhiskey, put sleeping potion in it, I don’t care. The boy trusts you, after all. So, you shall act normal, and when he is sleeping, bring him to me here. I’m sure Lucius will be proud. After all, it will be his death place.”

The man on the ground murmured words of thanks to Voldemort, and shuffled out of the room.

“Yes,” Voldemort said softly to himself. “He will be gone at last.”

***** * ***   
**

Draco woke up with an extremely warm someone beside him. He sighed happily – Draco was officially in bliss.

Harry and Draco had gone to bed earlier than usual, and _celebrated_ the fact that they were speaking again. They had fallen asleep, and well, here they were.

Turning his head slightly, Draco looked at Harry and saw that he was still fast asleep. This didn’t surprise him, as Draco was usually awake before the Gryffindor. Draco lay quietly for a couple of minutes, watching the sleeping beauty beside him, when something in Harry’s peaceful expression changed abruptly.

Harry’s nose scrunched up, and his eyes opened.

“Draco?” he said sleepily, obviously trying to focus on the blonde before him.

“Yeah. Did you just have a dream or something?” Draco asked, confused.

“What? Oh! Yeah, I did! That reminds me, I need to talk to Dumbledore. I had a dream yesterday too, but I got a little… distracted,” Harry said blushing while rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, and threw the duvet off himself.

“I’m just going to have a shower, ok?”

“Hey, what about me!” Draco yelled indignantly, also climbing out of bed. Harry, who had been fetching some clothes, turned and smirked at Draco.

“You can join me, if you wish.”

“Damn, who taught you to smirk like that?” Draco said, also smirking.

“Oh, just this blonde I met,” Harry said, dropping his clothes onto the bed and wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist.

“Oh?” Draco could feel rather than see Harry smirking into his pink hair.

“Uh huh. He was pretty cute. Nothing on you though, of course.”

Draco turned around in Harry’s arms and shoved him playfully before getting some clothes of his own. “After that last comment, I’m not sure I want to have a shower with you.”

Harry pouted through a smile. Draco walked past him and into the bathroom.

“But, I suppose… I do want to have a nice smelling boyfriend. Come on,” he said to Harry, and Harry did as he was told (for once!).

***** * ***   
**

After one of the longest showers Harry had ever had, they were finally in the kitchen, breakfasting on banana chocolate chip muffins. Hermione and Ginny were both there as well, and as Ron was still with Fred and George, Harry and Draco felt free to flirt a little more noticeably in front of the two girls. Ginny nearly choked on her muffin with laughter when Draco did his infamous pout to try and get Harry to pass him the coffee.

Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen with Lupin just when the four teenagers were finishing off. Harry hurriedly swallowed his mouthful of coffee, and jumped up.

“Professor Lupin, I need to talk to Dumbledore – it’s about a dream I had.”

Lupin looked startled, and sat down slowly.

“I mean,” Harry carried on. “It’s not _that_ important, but I just thought I’d better tell him.”

“Right,” Lupin said. “Well, Dumbledore is away at the moment… but I can floo him for you, if you wish.”

Harry nodded, so Lupin got up again and walked over to the kitchen fireplace. He untied a little bag of floo powder as Harry got down on his knees beside Lupin. Draco, Hermione and Ginny squeezed beside Harry (Draco was nearly on top of Harry, not that Harry minded) in interest.

“Dumbledore’s office!” Lupin cried as he threw some powder into the fire. Harry looked at Lupin, and when Lupin nodded, Harry bent down and poked his head into the emerald flames. Instantly, his head felt like it was on a roller coaster ride without his body. Predictably, Harry was relieved when the whirring and the spinning slowed down, and he came to focus on a marvelous and bright rug. He recognized it as the rug out of Dumbledore’s office at Hogwarts.

“Professor?” Harry called out hesitantly, wondering if he’d get a reply. There was a rustle of parchment and a sweeping of robes, and Harry found himself face to face with his Headmaster.

“Harry, what a pleasant surprise,” Dumbledore said, his astonishing blue eyes fixed upon Harry’s. “I assume you must have something important to tell me, or you would not have suffered through the floo ride.”

“Yes Professor,” Harry chuckled lightly. “It’s just that last night, and the night before, I had two dreams.”

“Ah, the power of dreams,” the Professor mused, while peering over his half-moon glasses. “Carry on.”

Harry quickly described what the room looked like, adding in as much detail as he could remember. He went on to tell him the men’s and Voldemort’s conversation, in both dreams.

“So,” Dumbledore said when Harry had finished his recount. “Voldemort was plotting to kidnap some muggles… did he mention their names?”

“No sir, I’m afraid they didn’t,” Harry answered ruefully. “But now they are re-scheduling the kidnap, because of something more important.”

“Yes,” the Headmaster said thoughtfully. “Lord Voldemort’s Death Eater is meeting with someone, and that someone is now the subject of the kidnapping. Do you remember if Voldemort said the name of the Death Eater, or the name of the person who he was meeting?”

“Um… I’m pretty sure Voldemort didn’t say the Death Eater’s name, and I don’t think he mentioned the person who the Death Eater was going to meet either,” Harry sighed, annoyed at himself.

“Ah well,” replied Dumbledore. “It is better than nothing. Thank you, Harry, for this information. It was good of you to tell me.”

“Right,” Harry said, and with a last nod, pulled his head out of the fire. The flames turned to a startling orange once more, and Harry turned to face the others.

“Thanks,” he said to Lupin, and Harry helped Draco up, along with himself.

Draco led the way out of the kitchen, as the four teenagers were basically finished eating, and into the lounge.

“So, you had a dream about Voldemort in my house?” Draco exclaimed, sitting down on the sofa.

“Yup,” Harry said, seating himself next to Draco.

“Bastard,” Draco murmured angrily (luckily Hermione had sat down in between Harry and Ginny at that moment, and didn’t hear him). “He killed my mother, left the house when the Ministry officials invaded it, and now given it to Voldemort when they decided to leave it alone. I bet they’re using the dungeons that are secretly hidden, and only someone with the name Malfoy can open the door.”

“Hey,” Harry said softly, laying his hand upon Draco’s. “It’ll be fine. Good _always_ wins over evil. Like, Frodo and Samwise destroyed the Ring, which in turn destroyed all the evil in Middle Earth.”

“Right,” Draco replied, giving Harry a small smile. “But,” he added, exchanging a bemused glance with Ginny. “Who the hell is Frodo?”

***** * ***   
**

Two pairs of lips brushed lightly together, and tanned arms gently pushed Draco against the wall in their bedroom. Draco’s tongue met Harry’s and he slipped his hands under Harry’s shirt. Just the touch of Harry’s skin made Draco sigh into Harry. Fluttering his eyes open, Draco saw Harry’s emerald eyes crinkled in a smile. Then Harry kissed him again, more fiercely this time, and his fingers trailed down to Draco’s shirt buttons. He began trying to undo them as fast as he could, but Draco brought his hands out to hold Harry’s.

“We don’t have to rush,” Draco murmured, suddenly realizing that he was breathless. “We have all day, not ten minutes like we usually do.”

Harry gave a quiet laugh, and untangled his hands from Draco’s to bring them up to Draco’s still pink hair.

“That is very true Draco,” Harry whispered to Draco, running the tips of his fingers through his hair. Draco kissed Harry’s jawline, and then moved on to his neck. Harry shivered visibly and let his head fall onto Draco’s shoulder. Draco drew Harry closer, if that was possible, and rested his arms on Harry’s hips.

Lingering to lick Harry’s neck once more, Draco then turned back to Harry and Harry lifted his head up. The pools of emerald were sparkling with desire, his lips slightly swollen but held in a beautiful smile. Draco couldn’t believe that Harry was actually his… to hold, to kiss… to love.

Draco opened his mouth hesitantly, feeling an overwhelming urge to tell Harry what he had just thought.

However, just at that moment there was a knock on the door, and the moment was broken. Harry scrunched up his noise reluctantly, but his smile didn’t leave. There was another knock, and Harry called out,

“Who is it?”

“Ginny and Hermione,” said Ginny’s voice, and Draco could hear them giggling, presumably at Harry’s husky voice.

“Well,” Harry called back, hugging Draco to him. “We’re busy. Studying. Uh… naked.”

“Is that supposed to keep us away?” Ginny asked, and Draco chuckled when he heard Hermione saying ‘Ginny!’ sounding amused and shocked.

The bedroom door began to open, so Harry let go of Draco and attempted to tidy himself up. Draco did the same, although, he didn’t think it would change his appearance of being thoroughly snogged very much.

Ginny and Hermione entered the room, Ginny grinning and Hermione with pink cheeks.

“Wow, where you having fun studying invisible textbooks?” Ginny asked, flopping down onto Harry’s bed, her grin looking broader than ever.

“Yes, actually we were,” Draco replied, smiling innocently at her as well. “Thanks for asking.” Harry blushed, and scratched his cheek absently.

Draco cleared his throat to cover up a laugh, and looked at Ginny.

“Anyways, is there anything in particular you wanted us for, or were you just interrupting our… studying session… for the sake of it.”

“The second one,” answered Ginny, crossing her legs and smirking, but Hermione intercepted her.

“Do you think we would have interrupted you if we could help it?” she scolded them jokingly. “No, it’s just that I had an idea, about your dreams Harry.”

Harry looked up from the carpet in interest and Draco raised his left eyebrow curiously.

“Well,” began Hermione, now that she held the boys’ attention. “I was thinking about what you said, about the muggles that were going to be kidnapped. And then I remembered; your Aunt and Uncle Harry! Dumbledore thought they may have been kidnapped for a really short time when they were found outside the Leaky Cauldron. They must have escaped then, before the Death Eaters had enough information. So, they could have wanted to try and kidnap your Aunt and Uncle again.”

A silence met Hermione’s short speech, in which the girls looked at the boys, and Harry and Draco traded surprised and (in Draco’s case) impressed looks.

“You know, that sounds so simple and likely, I wonder why I hadn’t thought of it,” Harry commented thoughtfully.

“But now they have a better target,” Hermione added, sounding less excited and more worried.

The four teenagers stared at each other, and Draco knew by their serious expressions they were all, like him, speculating who the new target could be. Draco turned his gaze on Harry. His bottom lip was being chewed in an anxious manner, while his eyes sparkled unblinkingly.

Harry was amazing, really. Mentally, Draco meant. Any normal teenage boy would have collapsed under the pressure put upon him about Voldemort, and how he was supposed to save everyone. That, and struggling through a normal life as well.

Draco had to admit, he would be a wreck.

Maybe it was this characteristic, Harry’s not-giving-up and still-believing attitude, which let Draco have another chance to prove himself to Harry. ‘ _Gods knows that Gryffindors always rule themselves by their hearts_ ,’ Draco thought fondly. A small smile slipped onto Draco’s face just as he became aware that Harry was talking to him.

“Huh?” Draco hurriedly said, ignoring Ginny’s amused giggle.

“I was just saying that we really better get back to our studying,” Harry said, trying awfully hard not to smirk.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Draco agreed, hiding the smile that had been on his face.

“We can take a hint,” laughed Hermione, and the two girls slowly made their way to the door.

“Thanks for your idea,” Harry called out before they left.

“No problem,” Ginny said. “Have fun… studying.”

At that, she quickly ducked out of the room after Hermione as Harry threw a pillow at her. Draco chuckled and turned to face Harry, but didn’t get too far because Harry threw Draco onto his bed and kissed him.

“You’re eager,” commented Draco playfully when they broke apart for a second. Harry laughed softly and trailed a finger down Draco’s neck to his shirt. In a few seconds (Harry and Draco were getting skilled at this) Draco’s shirt was unbuttoned and Harry placed his lips on the tanned torso.

“You have no idea,” Harry breathed heavily, and his lips met Draco’s as he sat up slightly to kiss him.

***** * ***   
**

The next morning, however, Harry was feeling anything but eager. He had just remembered, with a sickening jolt in his stomach, that today was the day that he had been planning to visit Oliver Wood.

Draco was sleeping blissfully, and Harry kissed his forehead softly. Then he gently untangled himself from Draco, so not to wake him, and he shuffled over to his trunk. Harry picked up some clothes and turned back to look at Draco.

His pink hair, which was nearing the end of its life, was splayed out on the pillow like a halo, and it would have looked like one if Draco’s hair had been its original blonde colour. Draco’s face was peaceful and relaxed, and Harry chewed his lip, beginning to feel like he was in the Wizengamot.

Should he wake Draco and tell him that he was going to the Leaky Cauldron to see Oliver? Draco really wouldn’t be happy to hear that… and they had only just made up over their last fight. Harry sighed and rubbed his temple. He couldn’t just leave for the Leaky Cauldron and write a note for Draco – it would be a cowardly thing to do.

Fortunately (or unfortunately – depending on which way you looked at the situation), Draco made up Harry’s mind for him.

“You’re up earlier than usual,” Draco yawned, offering Harry a sleepy smile. Harry grinned back, despite his inner dilemma.

“Hey,” Harry said lightly, walking back over to the bed. Draco sat up and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it tidier. Harry place his clothes beside him, and sat down on the bed opposite Draco.

“Why are you up so early? It’s hard to wake you up before ten usually,” Draco commented, smiling.

“Well…” Harry paused, biting his lip again. “I… I’m going to go and visit Oliver at the Leaky Cauldron today.”

The sides of Draco’s smile turned down quickly, and his eyes became darker as they narrowed. Harry saw Draco’s hands clench the duvet, and he pulled it tighter around his torso.

“Draco?” Harry said, when Draco didn’t speak. Draco shook his head, and looked away. “Draco… I – I told him I’d go and see him… and – I…” he trailed off as he noticed that his words weren’t having an effect on Draco. “Draco, I’m sorry. But… I can take care of myself. He’s my _friend_. I just don’t get how you can think he’s ‘up to something’.”

“You know what, you’re right,” Draco said finally, still avoiding Harry’s gaze. “You should go. I’m just being paranoid. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Harry moved closer to Draco, and took some of Draco’s hair in his fingers.

“I promise I’ll be safe. But if you really don’t want me to go… well, I suppose I could just –“

“No, you should go,” Draco interrupted softly. He looked up at Harry, and their eyes met, emerald catching silver. Harry tucked the lock of hair behind Draco’s ear, and gave him a hesitant smile. Draco returned it, and leaned forwards to kiss Harry.

“You have a good time, ok?” Draco whispered, his nose almost touching Harry’s. Harry nodded silently, and stayed there for a moment before standing up and picking up his clothes.

“I have to have a shower before I go,” Harry said to Draco, waiting half awkwardly, half hopefully in the bathroom doorway. “Do you want to join me?”

Draco didn’t answer right away, but he scratched his neck uneasily.

“Actually, I’m a bit tired. I think I might go back to sleep. See you when you get back,” Draco said politely, but again not meeting Harry’s eyes. Draco lay down and turned over so he wasn’t facing Harry. Harry felt like hitting his head on the wall, but merely walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

Draco wasn’t happy with Harry; Harry knew he had reason to be. _But,_ said a stubborn voice in his head. _He has no right to be suspicious of Oliver in the first place!_

Harry shook his head to try and clear it. He just had to hope that going to visit Oliver was the right thing to do.

When Harry walked into the kitchen, Hermione was there, reading the _Daily Prophet_.

“Where’s Draco?” she asked, looking up from the paper.

“He’s asleep,” Harry answered. He was silent for a moment, and then abruptly said, “Do you think I should go and visit Oliver today?”

“Why are you asking me?” Hermione said, surprised. “Do whatever you want to.”

“But I don’t think Draco wants me to,” sighed Harry. “He said I should, but he totally didn’t mean it. Would it make him too angry at me if I did go?”

Hermione looked at Harry thoughtfully.

“Well… if you really want my advice… follow your gut instinct. Does it agree with Draco, or do you think Oliver just wants to talk with you.”

“The truth is,” Harry said quietly. “I don’t know.”

Harry suffered a fierce battle in his mind all through breakfast. Should he go? After all, Oliver was his friend. Or should he stay, because Draco was obviously worried that Oliver was guilty about something.

Harry hadn’t made up his mind when he stood by the fireplace after breakfast, took the container of floo-powder in his hands, and threw some into the fire. He turned and placed the container back on the mantle, and stood watching the flames turn a sparkling green.

He still hadn’t made up his mind when he took a deep breath and stepped into the fire. Harry turned so that he was facing the room. And then, to his horror, Draco walked into the kitchen. His mouth opened in a little ‘Oh’, but Draco didn’t look surprised, only saddened. Harry opened his mouth to speak his destination, but found himself hesitating. Draco’s eyes widened marginally, and a flicker of hope flew across his irises.

Harry still hadn’t made up his mind as he called, “The Leaky Cauldron!” and disappeared into a rush of fireplaces.


	13. Blueberry Muffins and Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the Attempted Non-Con occurs, just in case anyone is worried about it xx

_Chapter 13: Blueberry Muffins and Coffee_

*** * ***

Usually, Draco thoroughly enjoyed blueberry muffins for breakfast. They were his favourite kind of muffin – and always would be. Today, however, Draco had no appetite, not even for blueberry muffins. Harry had left for the Leaky Cauldron about fifteen minutes ago, and since then Draco had had a sick feeling in his gut. A sick, scared, suspicious feeling.

Draco heard footsteps approaching the kitchen, and Ginny entered, followed by Hermione.

“Hey,” Ginny yawned. Draco tried to smile at the girls, but he was pretty sure it turned out as a grimace. To confirm his theory, Hermione gave him a concerned look and asked,

“Where’s Harry?”

“He’s… he’s gone to visit Oliver,” Draco said casually, trying to sound as though it wasn’t a big deal.

“Oh,” Hermione said, exchanging a glance with Ginny, and the two girls sat down at the table. There was silence for a moment as they picked up a muffin and started eating. Draco merely sat inspecting his nails, and trying to ignore his turmoil of emotions.

“Draco?” Hermione asked lightly, looking at him. “What do you know about Oliver Wood?”

“Hardly anything,” Draco replied, surprised at this question. He glanced at Hermione, but as she was still watching him intently, he looked away again. “I know that he was Gryffindor’s Keeper, and that he used to go to Hogwarts, but that’s all.”

“Then why are you suspicious of him?” Hermione said gently.

Something jumped in Draco’s throat, and he dragged his gaze from his nails to her face. She didn’t look mad or stern, just sympathetic. Draco gave a quiet sigh and didn’t answer right away.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I just – have a bad feeling about him. I don’t know,” Draco mumbled, facing his fingers once more. Ginny sipped her coffee, and scrutinized Draco over her mug. Nothing was said for another ten minutes while Ginny and Hermione were eating their respective breakfasts.

Ginny stood up, holding her mug with her pinky finger carelessly. She cocked her head to one side, as if thinking, and then she walked over to Draco.

“Draco, Harry will be fine. He… cares about you. Trust me, you shouldn’t worry,” Ginny said optimistically, smiling at Draco. Draco nodded shortly, and jumped slightly when she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. Draco felt himself relax, despite his anxious feeling still being present.

The kitchen door swung open at that moment and Mrs Weasley strode in, followed by Ron. He was sporting a swollen lip and a rather dark cheekbone, but otherwise perfectly healthy.

“Ron,” Hermione said, sounding a bit astonished. “I didn’t know you were coming back today.”

“Yeah, Fred and George only wanted me to try one thing – another one of those Skiving Snack-box things. At least they paid me,” Ron grinned. He walked around to the bench and poured himself some coffee. Turning, he looked at Ginny and froze for a fraction of a second as his eyes met Ginny’s hand on Draco. His eyes narrowed noticeably; however, he shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of coffee.

“Are you feeling up to some coffee now?” Ginny called over her shoulder, making her way to the bench. She stopped and offered Draco a reassuring grin. He contemplated the notion for a moment, then sent a smile of his own to her.

“I think I could manage it,” Draco said.

***** * ***   
**

Could he manage it? Harry had stopped spinning, but he felt serious doubts about visiting Oliver now. He should go back; he should really go back…

Harry opened one eye hesitantly, and was met with the familiar atmosphere of the Leaky Cauldron. His other eye flicked open and Harry reluctantly stepped out of the fireplace, brushing dust from his jeans and easy-to-unbutton shirt (which pleased Draco immensely).

He chewed his lip momentarily, wondering whether or not he should be here. The decision, however, was decided by a guy with brown hair falling into his eyes walking towards him.

“Hey Harry!” Oliver greeted him enthusiastically. “I’m glad you came!”

Harry gave him a smile, which felt more fake than it should have been, and said,

“Yeah. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Why should Harry feel so guilty? His breakfast was a circus in his stomach, and Harry’s teeth were permanently attached to his bottom lip. Oliver had his arm around his shoulders and was chatting animatedly as he steered Harry up the stairs and into his room. Harry entered the room, and Oliver shut the door behind him.

“Uh, Oliver – “ Harry started impulsively, and Oliver turned quickly away from the door.

“Yeah?”

“Er…” Harry opened his mouth painfully, willing himself to tell Oliver that he actually had to head back home… “I forgot to tell you how nice your trophies are,” he said, smiling once again.

“Thanks,” Oliver said, grinning back, and then walking past Harry into the one roomed place. “I’m glad you like them. I got that one for being the best new addition to Puddlemere United, and that one – everyone got one – that was for coming first in the Tri-nations with the New Zealand ‘Moutohora Macaws’ and the Australian ‘Thundelarra Thunderers’. Hard opponent, was the Moutohora Macaws…”

Harry let Oliver’s talk wash over him as he say down at the dining table next to Oliver. He was starting to feel much more at home; how could he have ever though Oliver would try anything? He was just an innocent Keeper wanting to see his favourite Seeker from Hogwarts.

“… had to put into practice a Double Eight Loop to stop them scoring once… anyway,” Oliver stopped to draw breath. “Do you fancy a drink? Butterbeer? Or,” he paused. “Something a little stronger?” He gave Harry a playful grin, and rose from his chair.

“Sure, yeah, I don’t mind,” Harry replied, sounding as nonchalant as possible. Oliver busied himself with the drinks while Harry amused himself by looking at Oliver’s Quidditch robes, which he had obviously left out on purpose so Harry would see them. They looked very glossy and shiny – very impressive.

“You like them?” Oliver asked, tilting his head toward the robes as he sat back down at the table. Harry nodded, and held out his hand for his drink. Oliver looked down at the glasses, and after a second, passed Harry one.

Harry smiled at Oliver, and raised his glass. Oliver did the same, and they stayed like that until Oliver smiled nervously and took a gulp of his drink.

“Mmm, firewhisky at its finest,” Oliver said, licking his lips slowly. Harry tipped mouthful of firewhisky into his mouth, and noticed that Oliver’s eyes flicked to his glass and his throat. A moment later, Harry was ready to hit himself over the head with the hardest thing possible.

Fuck! Firewhisky in his dream… the Death Eater meeting someone important enough to cancel Voldemort’s other plans… Shit! Harry couldn’t believe how incredibly dim and stupid and dumb and… particularly stubborn he had been!

He couldn’t swallow… Harry kept the liquid on his tongue, but too soon it began to burn his mouth. After all, it was called firewhisky. Harry’s eyes were watering now… with a huge sense of dread, Harry swallowed the firewhisky and almost shut his eyes to escape what was awaiting him.

Harry waited. Surely, this was what it was for. Oliver was meant to smile wickedly, and the firewhisky was meant to knock him dead in an instant.

However, Oliver’s face was looking anything but wicked. His face had turned a shade paler, and Oliver avoided Harry’s eyes until hurriedly standing up.

“Oh, Harry, you must look at this,” Oliver said, and motioned him over to the desk beside his bed. Harry rose from his chair, feeling confused as to why the firewhisky wasn’t doing anything. “Look, this article was in the _Daily Prophet_ after we won.”

Harry took the newspaper article from Oliver, a wave of unwilling relief spreading over him. Perhaps Oliver wasn’t bed news after all. Perhaps Harry was just really, really paranoid.

Feeling Oliver’s eyes on him, Harry tried to read the words, even though he wasn’t taking them in. Harry cleared his throat in an attempt to stop Oliver watching him, but it was in vain. Finally, Harry looked up at Oliver, only to realize he was a mere inch away from him, still looking at him.

Oliver blinked and his tongue darted out over his lips, drawing Harry’s gaze to it. Bubbling panic began to rise in Harry’s chest like bile as Oliver moved closer to Harry… he couldn’t move though, his limbs just weren’t working… Oliver’s lips were a couple of millimeters away from Harry’s…

Suddenly Harry felt himself being grabbed by the neck and thrown down onto the bed. He gave a small cry in shock and found Oliver completely pinning him to the mattress, knees either side of Harry’s groin. Oliver allowed himself an uncertain smile, as if reassuring himself, and he bent down lower, closer to Harry.

Harry tried to turn and wriggle his way out, but Oliver held him fast with his body, and Harry had no chance of throwing Oliver off as Oliver was very muscular. Once again, Oliver’s lips were right above Harry’s, and in a second, Harry felt Oliver’s lips descend on his own.

The first thing Harry noticed was how dirty Oliver tasted, and he shuddered visibly. Oliver’s tongue was forcing entry, shoving Harry’s tongue aside. Harry gagged and turned his head so that the kiss was broken. While Harry gasped for breath Oliver pressed his lips on Harry’s neck, seemingly unperturbed at Harry’s action.

Oliver unbuttoned Harry’s shirt and moved along to Harry’s shoulder, Harry squirming in his hold. Harry moved his arm up to try and push Oliver away from him but Oliver quickly held down both of his wrists with his hands, his nails digging into Harry’s flesh painfully.

“Oliver, what are you doing?” hissed Harry uncomfortably, wincing when Oliver chewed his shoulder blade with sharp teeth. Harry found that his eyesight was becoming blurred and unfocused.

Oliver looked up from Harry’s shoulder and met Harry’s gaze. Harry took a short breath in alarm when he saw the mad hunger in Oliver’s eyes. Shit, Draco had been right! Oliver was crazy!

“Get off me!” Harry managed to say as Oliver let go of his right wrist and began moving down to Harry’s belt with his hand. Oliver grinned evilly and started to undo Harry’s belt with an unknown amount of force. Harry’s pants slid down an inch and Harry made a shocked noise when caught a glimpse of Oliver’s wild desire-filled eyes.

Without letting himself think of any doubts, Harry brought his free hand up and punched Oliver in the side of his head as hard as he could. Oliver cried out in pain, and actually let out a growl. Harry pulled his knees up so that they hit Oliver in the chest. In the moment Oliver became distracted and Harry rolled out of Oliver’s grip of him and fell onto the floor.

Harry got to his feet as fast as one can when very disorientated and fumbled in his jeans’ pockets for his wand. Oliver sat up on his bed and for the first time, looked desperate and scared.

“No, don’t, don’t tell him, he’ll kill me,” Oliver panted, making no sense to Harry. Harry pulled his wand up to point at Oliver and forced himself to say the word, “ _Stupefy_!” Oliver slumped forwards and lay still on his bed.

For a moment Harry stood breathing heavily, attempting to let it all sink in. He couldn’t believe what Oliver had just done. And if Harry hadn’t stopped him… Oliver could have… _raped_ him.

Harry did up his belt again and a thought struck him, although he wasn’t very happy about it. He walked over to Oliver, swallowing the sick feeling in his mouth. He had to know.

Hands trembling, Harry touched Oliver’s left hand and slowly rolled up his sleeve. After a second, Harry turned away, disgusted and afraid at the same time.

Oliver was branded with the Dark mark.

***** * ***   
**

Draco rubbed his head, wanting to get rid of an oncoming headache. He looked around the lounge where Ron and Hermione were playing chess beside Ginny and Draco. Ginny had challenged Draco to a game which he politely accepted, which in turn had given Ron the idea of challenging Hermione to a game.

Right now, it seemed that Ron was winning against Hermione (no surprises there) and Ginny was winning their game. Draco supposed the winning streak (and skill) must run in the Weasley blood.

His thoughts strayed, yet again, to Harry. Draco wondered what he and Oliver were doing. Were they chatting and laughing together over a coffee, or was Oliver blatantly showing off about all of his Quidditch triumphs, and Harry getting more and more impressed by the minute? Or… Draco hated to think it, but couldn’t rule it out… was Harry cheating on him?

“Draco, it’s your turn,” Ginny said, touching his arm lightly. Draco pulled himself out of his depressing thoughts and willed himself to concentrate on the chess game. “Are you alright?” Ginny asked him as he moved his knight.

“Yeah,” Draco said, glancing meaningfully at Ron, trying to tell her that he didn’t want Ron to know. “Why?”

“Oh…” Ginny said, raising an eyebrow at Draco impatiently, clearly telling him that she knew he was lying. “It’s just that… you’ve moved your knight into a position where I can take it.”

Draco blinked and peered at his knight. Bugger, he had too.

“Oh, whoops,” he said, giving a little chuckle. Ginny smiled at him, and Draco thanked her telepathically for not revealing anything to Ron.

“I’m thirsty,” Ron yawned, rubbing his eyes but avoiding his cheekbone. “Anyone else want a drink while I’m getting one?”

The three teenagers shook their heads, and Ron grinned.

“I won’t spike it, you know.” He disappeared into the kitchen, and something connected in Draco’s mind. Ron’s words had just reminded him of Harry’s dream yesterday. He speculated idly who it was that the Death Eater was going to seduce. Using firewhisky. Surely no one would fall for such an obvious way… and why did Voldemort agree to cancel his own plans. Whoever that Death Eater was meeting, they must be important, important enough to change Voldemort’s plans…

Draco gasped and bumped the chess board as he jumped in fright. Ginny looked up at him inquiringly and he stared back at her, unable to say anything.

“What?” she asked, after waiting a moment. “What is it?” Her voice sounded slightly worried now. Hermione glanced up and frowned curiously at Draco.

“The… the firewhisky. And the Death Eater meeting someone… someone who Voldemort cancelled his plans for… it – it’s Harry.”

A hushed intake of breath sounded from both Ginny and Hermione, and they sat in silence, Draco only hearing his heart pounding in panic.

“I – I think you could be right,” Hermione spoke finally, faintly. At that moment, Ron walked in carrying a bottle of butterbeer.

“Mmm, butterbeer at it’s finest,” he sighed into the quiet room. “What’s up?” he asked when he realized their shocked and pale faces.

“Uh…” Draco stammered, thoughts whizzing through his mind a hundred miles per minute. A green light distracted him from these thoughts, however.

It shone from below his chin; Draco dazedly looked down and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. There sat his necklace from Harry, which was shining a horribly bright emerald green, piercing Draco like a dagger.

“Harry.” A single word fell from Draco’s lips and he stood up, sending the chess board crashing, littering the rug with pieces. He stumbled into the kitchen, and grabbed the floo powder by the fireplace. Ginny and Hermione hurried after him, Ron trailing behind, asking what was going on. Draco had no time to answer.

“The Leaky Cauldron,” Draco said, throwing the floo powder into the fire at the same time as he climbed in. Draco closed his eyes as he began spinning, a random thought of ‘ _Lucky my hair’s still pink, I didn’t have to waste time getting a glamour charm,_ ’ entering his mind.

After a painful few seconds, in which Draco attempted to keep his dread under control, the spinning stopped and Draco almost fell into the bar of Leaky Cauldron. Shaking ash out of his eyes, Draco looked around the room, ignoring interested looks directed at him. He moved three steps forwards and turned to the staircase which went up to the hotel rooms.

Draco started to make his way over to the stairs, his necklace still glowing intensely. Then he spotted Harry and his heart stopped.

***** * ***   
**

Harry’s world was revolving, lurching in random directions. He drowsily staggered out of Oliver’s room and made his way down the hallway. Damn, there must have been something in that firewhisky after all.

He narrowly steered clear of a pot plant sitting in the doorway to the stairs, only one thought on his mind. Get back to Draco.

Blinking, Harry gulped his fear down and stared down at the stairs. There was so many of them… he wouldn’t be able to make it. Harry took a step forwards, and closed his eyes in spite of himself. He was too tired to walk…

And then suddenly he was falling into someone’s arms, and Harry’s eyes flicked open. He saw a blinding green light, and pink hair. Draco. Harry smiled sleepily and sighed, knowing he was safe now, before passing out.


	14. Denied of a Steamy Shower

_Chapter 14: Denied of a Steamy Shower (but not of a snog in a broom cupboard!)_

*** * ***

Ginny, Hermione and Ron’s hushed whispers washed over Draco. He wasn’t listening. There was no need for him to. Draco’s concentration was on only one person in the room, and that person was currently lying unconscious on the bed in front of him. Draco kept his face blank and smooth of emotion; completely opposite to his emotions inside. They were falling all over the place, barely stopping themselves from spilling over the sides.

To name one of these emotions, Draco was fucking scared. Literally clenching his fists to stop himself from screaming; although, he hid his fists inside his jacket. He couldn’t believe that Harry had just collapsed in his arms like that. What was wrong with him? Draco didn’t know the answer to that, because Harry hadn’t even stirred once since Draco had brought him back to Grimmauld Place. It had been… nearly… 12 hours? Yes. Draco checked his watch to confirm this thought, and saw that it was just past one in the morning.

Yes, 12 hours of silence.

Draco closed his eyes in an attempt to clear his mind. However, the incident started replaying itself in Draco’s mind, and Draco couldn’t stop it in its tracks.

\- - -

_His heart was beating wildly. Draco leapt out of the fireplace and hurriedly scanned the room. One pair of witches stopped mid-conversation and gaped open mouthed at Draco, but Draco didn’t care about that. His eyes darted around, searching for his emerald eyes, his rumpled hair, for Harry to walk up to him and tell him he was ok…_

_A distant thump jolted into Draco’s thoughts, and his eyes flicked up to the staircase. There he was. Harry was nearly falling down the stairs, eyes closed and with a deathly pale face. His knees were crumpling, his chest was drooping._

_Draco dashed around the tables, crashing into a waiter who promptly smashed two glasses of firewhiskey. The firewhiskey splashed up on Draco ankles, but he didn’t stop. The waiter’s curses faded as Draco became deaf to everything but Harry. He reached out his arms desperately as Harry started to fall, and Draco caught him tightly._

_For a moment, Draco just stood frozen, his eyes shut but still able to see a near-blinding green light from below his chin. He hugged Harry to him, trying to reassure himself, but Harry’s body was limp and unconscious. But then Draco came back to reality and realized that people were gasping, talking in shocked voices… about him._

_Draco opened his eyes and inhaled a deep breath to calm his mind. More composed, he knelt down and slipped his left arm under Harry’s knees. Draco then nudged Harry’s arm around his shoulders, and turned his eyes on the room._

_Ignoring the tremors of fear shaking his body, Draco tightened his grip on Harry and struggled his way through the tables, the astonished diners and the livid waiter. Draco bit his lip to try and block out the anger he was feeling; why couldn’t everyone just go back to whatever they had been doing? He stumbled over an over-turned chair and started to run to the fireplaces. A small and unspeaking crowd followed him._

_Because of the uncontrollable trembling in his hands, Draco nearly dropped the bag of floo powder a number of times. However, Draco soon had a handful of it and threw it into the flames. He took a step into them and half turned so that the crowd came into view. They were now over the initial shock and were gossiping curiously, sneaking glances at Draco. Draco closed his eyes to them and whispered, “Number 12 Grimmauld Place.”_

_More gasps greeted Draco when he stopped spinning. He slowly opened his eyes and put up no fight as Ron said nothing but took Harry from Draco and started for the staircase to the bedrooms. Hermione ran worriedly behind him but Ginny turned to Draco._

_“What happened? Is he ok?” She asked him, wringing her wrists nervously. Draco couldn’t speak; he merely shrugged his shoulders. No one knew if Harry was alright except Harry._

\- - -

Draco jumped slightly as someone touched his arm. He opened his eyes, and Ginny’s freckled, anxious face peered into his.

“Hey, Ron, Hermione and I are going to go to bed,” she said softly. “Wake us up if Harry wakes up.”

Looking up, Draco saw Ron and Hermione standing by the door, Ron’s gaze on Harry but Hermione’s gaze on Draco.

“Will you be ok?” Ginny’s voice asked, and Draco turned back to her. He nodded, and cracked a tiny smile for her, to reassure her. Ginny hesitated, but she straightened and walked over to the door, to Ron and Hermione.

“Don’t stay up all night,” Hermione advised with a serious expression. In other words, she was saying ‘I know you will but _don’t_!!’

Draco gave them a little wave as they left, and he heard Ron’s voice say, “Why isn’t he talking? Do you think someone put a silencing spell on him?” Two impatient snorts came, and Draco could imagine the rolling of her eyes as Ginny said, “Honestly Ron, I feel so sorry for whoever ends up marrying you…”

He smiled a bit at that, but when he looked back at Harry, Draco sobered up. For the first time he was alone with Harry. Tentatively, Draco stood up and padded gently to the side of the bed. Harry’s face was still pale, but not as colour-drained as it had been when Draco first found him.

“Harry,” Draco whispered, feeling that if he spoke any louder a sort of charm would be broken. “I’m sorry for not getting to you earlier.” He paused for a second, kneeling down next to the beauty beside him. “I… I’m sorry for not doing more to make you not go. I was angry that you didn’t listen to me, so I just made myself not care…”

Draco took a shuddering breath, and blinked to try and shut out any tears interested in escaping.

“I should have stopped you; I should have realized your dream meant something important… what if you don’t wake up?”

 _‘No, don’t think like that, you know it’s not true,’_ Draco thought fiercely as he suppressed a sob. Mrs Weasley had come very soon after Draco arrived with Harry and did some healing charms to try and wake Harry up. That didn’t work, but she did find out that he wasn’t dead (as Draco had ultimately feared) but just in an enchanted sleep. She had no idea about how long he would be asleep for, however.

“Harry,” Draco pleaded, tears slowly falling on to his cheeks. “Please wake up!”

Suddenly, Draco saw a change in the peaceful face in front of him. Harry’s head turned to the side slightly, and his nose twitched. And then… Harry’s eyelids fluttered… and finally opened.

***** * ***   
**

_Harry smiled at Draco as they passed a garden full of blood red roses. Draco took Harry’s hand a squeezed it lightly. They continued to walk down a stone cobbled path._

_Suddenly, Harry and Draco were at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and they were in their bedroom. Draco led Harry to a bed, grinning happily. He pushed Harry down on to the bed, and Harry kissed Draco. When he opened his eyes, Draco was sneering at him, and then Draco wasn’t actually Draco at all, it was Oliver standing over him, sneering and smirking evilly…_

_Harry struggled within Oliver’s hold but Oliver held him tight around the throat. He ripped Harr_ _y’s shirt off and Harry tried to shake him off, but Oliver’s grip was too strong. However, Draco came bursting in the room right then, and punched the lights out of Oliver. He grabbed Harry and helped him stand up. Draco then led Harry downstairs and took him along the corridor which changed into a stone cobbled path with white lilies lining it. Draco randomly sat down and put his head in his hands and cried out, “Harry!” Harry turned his head slightly…_

Harry opened his eyes. White lilies were still in his mind, but as they faded, Harry realized he was in a room, a dark room with only a lamp lit, on a bed… he blinked and looked around. What he saw made the memories tumble back.

Draco was kneeling beside him, so that his face was about a foot away. His face was one of shock and uncertainty.

“Harry?” Draco whispered disbelievingly, quickly wiping tears from his cheeks. “Harry… are you awake?”

Sitting up a little, Harry saw that he was back in Grimmauld Place, in his and Draco’s bedroom.

“Yeah,” Harry answered softly, turning to look at Draco’s hopeful face and offered him a grin. “It’s ok… I’m ok.” Draco smiled a true, relieved smile and stood up to sit on the bed next to Harry. He lent into Harry and kissed him, Harry feeling the obvious glad emotion through Draco’s kiss.

“Thank gods you are ok,” Draco murmured, sitting fully on the bed now and his head resting on Harry’s shoulder. “I… I was afraid that you –“

“I think it was only a sleeping potion,” Harry said when Draco trailed away. “I’m fine, really.” He took Draco’s chin with his fingertips and locked gazes with him. Draco smiled ( _like an angel_ , Harry noted fondly) and then blinked as though ending the spell.

“I have to go and tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny you’re awake,” he said with a hint of regret. “I promised I would.” Harry nodded and started to stand up. “No, you stay here!” Draco added hurriedly. “You’re still very pale.” With a smile lit up on his face, Draco stood and walked briskly to the door.

When he had left, Harry rubbed his eyes and his heart sank as he remembered what news he had to tell them. There was _no way,_ however, that Harry would tell them that Oliver had almost raped him. No. They didn’t need to know that.

Draco returned within three minutes with Ron, Hermione and Ginny following at a run. Harry smiled bemusedly at their thankful expressions and let Ginny and Hermione hug him at the same time, even if it was a bit suffocating.

“Thanks guys,” Harry said grinning as Ron clapped him on the back, as always.

“We were all so worried,” Hermione said, shaking her head but with a small smile.

“I know,” Harry replied quietly, exchanging a quick glance with Draco before smiling at them all. “But… well, I have something to tell you.”

“Oh?” Ginny raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “What would that be?”

“Well,” began Harry after a pause. “Um… Oliver is a Death Eater. He is branded with the dark mark and everything.”

Ron’s jaw dropped in amazement, Hermione gasped, sounding upset, but Draco and Ginny merely looked grim, like they were expecting it.

“Bloody Hell,” Ron said bluntly after another pause. Harry nodded and looked down at the blankets, suddenly feeling weary. He didn’t say anything; what was there to say at a time like this, when you’ve just found out that an old school friend, a friend you trusted had turned dark?

“We should go to bed,” Hermione suggested eventually. “I’ll tell Mrs Weasley in the morning – the proper morning, that is.”

The other four agreed, and left for their respective bedrooms. After they both changed into boxers, Draco slipped into bed beside Harry and they settled down under the blankets.

“You’re probably not tired, after that twelve hour sleep,” Draco said with a tiny smirk as he snaked an arm around Harry’s waist.

“Actually I am,” Harry said truthfully. “I don’t think enchanted sleep is very refreshing.”

And with these words, and Draco comfortably resting on his chest, Harry closed his eyes, forgot about Oliver Wood, and relaxed into quite a peaceful sleep.

***** * ***   
**

When Harry awoke later there was sunlight streaming into the bedroom, making it look much brighter than its usual gloomy self. Harry smiled and rolled over to find that Draco wasn’t in bed. Singing from the bathroom seemed to confirm Harry’s thought that Draco was in the shower, and his smile grew into a thoughtful smirk.

After fetching some clothes, Harry went over to the bathroom door and lightly knocked on the door. He opened it without waiting for a response, and grinned as he faced the shower.

“I was wondering if my very hot boyfriend would be willing to share his shower with me,” Harry said attempting to sound sultry. A small gasp of surprise was heard as the occupant realized there was someone else in the bathroom, and then a voice came that was trying to hide giggles, and that was definitely too feminine for Draco.

“Why I’d love to, Harry darling,” she said before bursting into laughter. Harry backed into the closed door and gulped.

“Er… you’re not Draco…” he said hesitantly, not knowing what else to say.

There were more giggles as the person replied.

“No, I’m not. Well spotted.”

“Ginny?” Harry stammered, horrified as he finally recognized the voice. A choked “Yes,” was heard in between giggles, and Harry instantly went an embarrassing red.

“Er… I, um, I’m sorry… I’ll – I’ll just… er…” And with that very intelligent speech, Harry scooted out of the bathroom at top speed, and collapsed onto his bed, groaning.

Five minutes later Ginny emerged from the bathroom, clearly trying to hide her grin but failing spectacularly.

“I’m sorry to have denied you of a very _steamy_ shower,” she said, the wickedness in her voice evident.

Harry groaned again as he stood up and avoided her gaze.

“Er…”

“The reason I was in there was that Ron was in his bathroom, Hermione was in our bathroom, and you and Draco’s bathroom was the only free one. Draco offered it to me, because you obviously were still asleep… I just didn’t know how horny you could be just after you’d woken up,” Ginny grinned, and Harry blushed redder than he knew he could.

“Um… I – I’m sorry…” he mumbled, trailing off into nothing.

“It’s fine, you sounded so cute,” Ginny giggled. Harry buried his face his in clothes and rushed into the bathroom.

“Cute,” Harry muttered as he shut the door. “That is _not_ a good word to be called when I was trying to sound sexy. Oh, and now I’m talking to myself… _great_ …”

Harry just hoped that Ginny wouldn’t tell anyone…

***** * ***   
**

The scent of coffee filled Draco’s nostrils as he lifted up his second cup of it. He shook his head marginally to flick a small lock of platinum blonde hair out of his eye. Yes, Draco’s pink hair had finally gone back to blonde (for which he was secretly thankful).

“Ah, what would the world be without coffee,” he sighed contently, taking a sip before returning it to the table. Hermione smiled, and Ron actually laughed; he seemed to become slightly warmer towards Draco after he arrived back with Harry yesterday.

“A big mess, that’s what,” Ginny answered, walking into the kitchen with a grin on her face. “Everyone needs it to wake up… especially Harry right now.”

“May I inquire as to why?” Draco asked curiously, and Ginny let out a giggle, nearly spilling her own cup of the stuff.

“Let’s just say he mistook me for you,” Ginny said, trying hard not to smile. Ron looked up from the _Daily Prophet_ interested and Hermione had her eyes on Ginny also, but Ginny pretended to not notice them. She sat down next to Draco and daintily took some waffles and golden syrup. As she leaned over to set the syrup back on the table, she whispered into Draco’s ear,

“You would have had a very _enjoyable_ shower if it had been you, not me. He was going to seduce you. Lucky the shower isn’t see-through.” Ginny laughed when she had said this, and Draco grinned at the thought of poor Harry as he discovered that he had a very feminine person in their shower instead of his boyfriend.

“Thank you for letting me use your shower, by the way,” Ginny said lightly to Draco as she started eating. Draco smiled in return and Ron choked on his pancake.

“You what?” Ron spluttered, wiping the masticated piece of pancake from the newspaper on to the floor. “What the hell were you using his shower for?”

“It was the only free one,” Ginny replied, raising her eyebrow at Ron’s indignation. “Why?”

“I think it’s extremely suspicious – “ Ron started to say, but an argument was spared by Harry choosing to enter at this moment.

“Er… good morning,” Harry said, but when he caught Ginny’s eye he blushed and busied himself with making a cup of coffee.

“Good choice Harry,” Draco remarked, as Harry sat down on his other side. Harry looked up at Draco and blushed again. Draco smiled innocently, and sipped his coffee, his little finger flicked out in the tiniest way. Ginny shared a look with Hermione and the both started giggling, trying to muffle it by covering their mouths with their hands.

“What?” Ron asked, perplexed, looking from Ginny to Hermione to Draco to Harry. “What are you all laughing at?” The girls laughed harder, and Draco concealed a smile by lightly biting his bottom lip and looking interestedly at the ceiling. Harry cleared his throat and attempted to steer the conversation.

“Anything worth reading about in there?” he asked Ron, faking casualness as he nodded at the _Daily Prophet_.

“Uh…” Ron quickly shut the paper and joined Draco in looking at the ceiling. “Well… not really…”

“Is there something about me?” Harry asked sharply, and Ron sighed before reluctantly handing over the _Daily Prophet._ There was a moment’s pause as Harry scanned the paper, and then he calmly placed it to the side. “Just some rubbish about me seeking attention by fainting in the Leaky Cauldron and some pink haired god coming to save me,” Harry gave Draco a lopsided grin as Draco stopped his pretence of finding the ceiling interesting.

“Of course,” Draco said, laughing. Ginny laughed too, but Hermione flashed Harry a look of warning that clearly was meant to remind them that Ron was still in the room. Harry’s mouth opened slightly as he realized that he and Draco were flirting, and he hurriedly picked up his coffee and nearly choked on it.

“I think you need more than one cup to wake up,” Draco teased, standing up and fetching the coffee pot. Ginny locked eyes with Draco and for a few seconds, they struggled with themselves, but they couldn’t help it; the pair dissolved into laughter again.

“Why am I always left out of everything,” moaned Ron, looking decidedly grumpy.

“You’re not,” Hermione tried to reassure him, but Draco and Ginny didn’t help the matter, and neither did the fact that Hermione also was smiling.

“Do you really want to know the reason why they’re laughing?” said Harry quietly. His tone was so serious and out-of-place that Draco ceased his laughing fit immediately. He turned to Harry, and saw that Harry was looking cautious but determined.

“Yes!” Ron said with emphasis, putting down his pancakes (which truly showed how badly he wanted to know).

“Uh…” Draco said, feeling his previous happy emotion melting into uncertainty. “Harry, can I just talk to you for one teensy moment?”

Harry blinked and looked up, as if startled out of a trance.

“Oh. Sure,” Harry quickly agreed. He stood up and Draco followed him out of the kitchen and into a small broom cupboard which came off the corridor. However, before Draco could say anything, Harry kissed Draco and slid his fingertips into Draco’s restored blonde hair. Draco shivered and lent into the kiss, moving his hands under Harry’s shirt.

“I’m glad your blonde hair is back,” Harry murmured into the dark. “Pink hair is cool, but I can’t imagine you keeping it forever.”

“Thanks,” grinned Draco, and kissed Harry along his jaw line. “Um… Harry? I was just wondering… are you actually going to tell him?”

After a sigh, Draco heard Harry say softly near his ear,

“Yeah. I can’t stand hiding things from Ron. I have to. Do you understand? Like, I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to.” Draco instantly shook his head, then remembered he was in the dark and said,

“No way! You can’t _not_ tell him. I think you should. I support your decision,” Draco whispered.

“Thanks,” Harry said in a relieved voice, and easily found Draco’s mouth, even in the dark. Draco kissed him back, but then broke away.

“We should get back out there. But… before we do… are you going to tell me exactly what you did this morning?” Draco said amusedly. A groan of embarrassment came from Harry.

“Not now. Maybe later, if we have nothing else to be happy about,” Harry answered with a tinge of sadness. Harry started to open the door, but Draco caught his forearm.

“Hey,” Draco said gently. “Ron will be totally fine with it, I’m sure. He’s your friend, he’ll accept it. Don’t worry, ok?” Harry nodded after a pause, and let Draco push the door open fully.

“Now c’mon, I can’t wait to see the look on Weasley’s face.” Gaining a grin from Harry, Draco squeezed his hand lightly and turned to walk into the kitchen.


	15. You see, darling?

_Chapter 15: You see, darling?_

*** * ***

Trying his hardest not to look stressed, Harry followed Draco into the kitchen and caught Ron’s eyes after an uncomfortable moment.

“Um… Ron, do you want to just… come into the lounge? You guys can come too,” Harry added to Ginny and Hermione as Ginny half stood.

“Ok, are you sure?” Ginny muttered to Harry, clearly understanding the situation.

“Yeah,” Harry murmured back. “I want you to be there.” Ginny nodded and with Ron looking incredibly confused, all five teenagers left the kitchen to settle into the lounge. Harry sat on one side of the sofa, but was soon joined by Hermione who gave him an encouraging smile. Draco sat opposite Harry beside Ginny, and Ron sat on an armchair nearest to Harry.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked, looking quite worried now. “What is it?”

“Well…” Harry looked down at the carpet, finding this a lot harder than he had expected. “There’s something I need to tell you. That I haven’t told you, ‘cause I was too scared to, and I thought you might freak out or something… and I’m sorry from keeping things from you, I just didn’t know how you would react, and –“

“Harry, just tell me!” Ron said, cutting off Harry’s nervous speech. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I won’t freak out, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises if you don’t know that you can keep them,” Harry said quietly. Ron looked at Harry intently, waiting for him to speak. Harry wanted to get up and walk away, but he knew he couldn’t back out now. Sighing inwardly, Harry wondered why he had gotten himself into this horrible position.

“Ron… I… I’m gay.”

Harry forced himself to look up from the floor and look into Ron’s face. He turned a shade paler than before and his mouth half opened to look like a goldfish.

“Ron? Say something,” Harry said, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Oh,” Ron said finally. He slowly looked around at Ginny, Hermione and Draco. “Did – did you guys… know?”

Ginny, Hermione and Draco all nodded, tactfully avoiding the red-head’s gaze and Ron turned back to Harry looking marginally annoyed.

“Why was I the last to find out?” Ron demanded. Harry opened his mouth, bit his lip anxiously, but he let a relieved grin fall on to his face when Ron smiled, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Honestly, Harry. You needn’t have kept that from me. I… I don’t care. As long as you’re… happy… I don’t care if you’re… er, seeing a… guy,” Ron said among some awkward pauses.

“Thanks,” Harry sighed thankfully. He felt oddly like he was floating; he couldn’t quite believe that Ron had accepted it. Harry closed his eyes briefly before tackling his next bombshell. “And, er, I’m glad you said that because… well, there’s something else I need to tell you.”

“Huh?” Ron adopted a confused look again. “What else could you possibly have to tell me, apart from the fact you’re… gay?”

“Er… well… I actually am seeing a guy at the moment.”

“You are?” Ron asked, looking shocked. “I mean, that’s good…” he added hurriedly. If Harry hadn’t been so worried about what he had to tell Ron, he would have laughed at the current look on Ron’s face. Ron obviously wasn’t very sure what the right thing was to say, whether he should look happy, puzzled, or nervous…

Harry half smiled, and glanced at Draco, who was doing his best not to grin openly at Ron’s reaction. When Draco caught Harry’s eye, he nodded his head a fraction and gave him a furtive thumbs up.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, getting a surge of confidence from Draco’s support. “Yeah, I have a boyfriend… and that guy is Draco.”

The previous relieved mood suddenly evaporated, got demolished… and was replaced by a loud silence. Harry’s mouth was parched; he took a breath and attempted to swallow the bruising lump that was obstructing his throat. Why wouldn’t Ron say anything? Ron’s face held no emotion – it looked like he had simply been knocked unconscious, but with his eyes still open.

Harry was just starting to get worried when Ron broke the silence. He chuckled, dryly at first, but then he began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Harry frowned, bemused, and gave Draco a sideways glance. Draco had both his eyebrows raised (which he only ever did when he was seriously fearful for someone’s sanity) and shrugged his shoulders feebly.

Turning back to look at Ron, Harry opened his mouth. Ron’s laugh had a bitter edge to it now, and Harry decided it was time to intervene.

“Um, Ron… what –“

“No!” Ron interrupted Harry loudly, and Harry was so taken aback that he shut up. “No. Don’t you try this on me. I know what you’re doing now.”

“I – what?” Harry changed his original sentence as he figured out that he had no idea what Ron was raving about.

“Don’t ‘what?’ me!” he said, getting to his feet with a crazed gleam in his eyes. “I know your plan. Well, I tell you, it’s not going to work on me! I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Draco muttered amazedly, but Harry flashed him a ‘you’re-not-helping’ look and hastily stood up.

“No, Ron, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” Ron’s fists were clenched, which Harry eyed warily. “You’re just telling me that you’re gay to cover it up!”

“Cover what up?” Harry asked exasperatedly.

“The fact that this filthy ferret here –“ Ron sent Draco a glare of daggers as he yelled, “Is in love with my sister!”

A stunned silence descended upon the teenagers, and Harry did what he had taken to doing when he was feeling helpless; he turned to Draco.

Draco was staring at Ron incredulously, his eyes wide and his elegant eyebrows nearly hidden by his hair, they were so highly raised. Looking like he was only just stopping his mouth from gaping (as that wouldn’t be at all dignified), Draco looked slowly at Harry.

Harry chewed his lip and searched Draco’s eyes for an answer; what the hell was Ron on about? He was still bewildered when Draco blinked and gave his head a tiny shake, and then, incredibly, smiled.

“Listen here, Weasley,” Draco said silkily, walking smoothly over to Ron. “And listen well. If your best friend confines something in you which he is bloody scared to tell you, it is your job to accept it as he tells it. Not to make ridiculous and fabricated stories like I am in love with Ginny. Now if this doesn’t convince you,” Draco said, smiling mockingly in Ron’s face (Harry felt too shocked to move), “Then I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you.”

And with that mini speech, Draco strode over to Harry, gave him a small, supportive smile, and kissed Harry without hesitation.

At first, Harry stayed frozen to the spot, thinking that this would only make Ron angrier… but after a pause Harry began to feel Draco calming him down, reassuring him that it would turn out ok. Harry relaxed a bit and closed his eyes, deepening the kiss slightly. He forgot about Ron, and the two girls, he just thought about Draco, and only Draco. A quiet moan escaped Draco, but it was loud enough for only Harry to hear. Harry was just about ready to unbutton Draco’s shirt when a shaky sound of someone clearing their throat came from their left.

They broke apart, Harry feeling suddenly flustered, and he saw that Ron had collapsed back into his armchair, completely pale and his hand quivering as he brought it up to his mouth. Ginny and Hermione were grinning openly, looking like they wanted to say “Aw!”

“You see, darling?” Draco said in a saccharine tone. “I clearly do not go for the more feminine type. Hopefully this little display has taught you to believe your best friend unless you have totally solid evidence against what they say.” With another sickly sweet smile, Draco walked back to the sofa he had been seated on, and sat down again.

“I… I – um…” Ron said, sounding terrified, and he turned back to Harry. “B-But… what about when Ginny and Malfoy have those… secret smiles? And they went off in Diagon Alley together… and when we met up waiting for you, Ginny was winking at him, and Malfoy was putting his head on her shoulder! See!” Ron said, suddenly looking slightly convinced again. “How do you explain that?”

“We were sharing a joke, Ronald,” Ginny spoke up for the first time. “And we smile at each other because we’re friends – and that’s what friends do, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh! And she dyed his hair pink for him! That is dodgy, you have to admit!” Ron said, glowering at Draco.

“Actually, I only bought the dye. Draco did it himself; he’s not useless you know,” Ginny snorted.

“And that time at breakfast… you had your hand on his shoulder,” Ron said to Ginny, starting to run out of evidence and steam.

“Again with the ‘friends’ thing,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes and giving Harry a smile. Harry bit his lip, still worried.

“And finally, the shower thing. Now _that_ was totally suspicious! You can’t deny it,” Ron swung around to Draco fiercely.

“Look Weasley, we’ve told you the truth, what more do you –“ said Draco, his tone irritated.

“Ron,” Harry pleaded quietly. Ron resignedly turned to face Harry. “I swear, Draco does not love your sister like that. They are friends, nothing more. Not like Draco and me. _We_ are more than friends. Ginny and Draco – no. I _am_ gay. You have to believe me.”

There was a long pause, in which Harry watched Ron unblinking, and held his breath. Finally, Ron muttered,

“S’pose I should have guessed the ferret was gay.”

Harry grinned in relief, and looked up at Draco. He was smiling back, his restored blonde hair shining happily.

“About time,” Ginny remarked, but she had an amused look on her face.

“Sorry man,” Ron said, giving Harry his best attempt at a smile under the circumstances.

“No problem,” Harry replied, feeling pleased.

However, his grin didn’t last long. It faded away when five or six important Order members walked into the lounge, along with Mrs Weasley, and Dumbledore.

“Er… would you like us to leave?” Harry asked, standing up politely.

“No, it’s you who we want to talk to,” a stern looking man stated.

“Um, ok,” Harry said, sitting back down again. “What do you want to speak to me about?”

“Oliver Wood, Harry,” Dumbledore said kindly. “Hermione alerted Molly here of the situation, and the Order wishes to question you. It will not take long.”

Harry’s heart turned cold; he was not going to tell them about how Oliver had tried to rape him. No way in hell.

“I… there really isn’t anything to tell,” he babbled.

“We will question you nonetheless,” the stern wizard said sharply. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it when the wizard frowned at him. Sighing, Harry prepared himself for an unpleasant time.

***** * ***   
**

It was into the early afternoon when Draco finally heard the Order members leaving the lounge. Ginny, Hermione, Ron and himself were all sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Harry to finish being interrogated. He heard their footsteps down the hallway, and the front door being closed after them. Dumbledore and Mrs Weasley, however, entered the kitchen, followed by Harry who was looking extremely tired.

“How about some lunch Harry, even if it is a bit late,” suggested Mrs Weasley, but Harry shook his head.

“No thanks, Mrs Weasley. I’m not hungry.”

“You should eat something,” she implored, but Dumbledore cleared his throat calmly.

“Perhaps it would be best if we leave him,” he said quietly. Mrs Weasley sighed but complied. The pair walked to the kitchen door, and Dumbledore stopped before exiting.

“Thank you Harry, for letting them ask you questions. Every little piece brings us a step closer to Voldemort.” (Ron shuddered and looked away). “It means a lot. Thank you.”

Harry weakly tried to smile, not doing a very good job of it. Dumbledore gave a little wave, and left. Arms hanging limp by his sides, Harry walked slowly over to the table and tried to suppress a yawn. He sat down on a seat next to Draco, flopped his arms down on the table and let his head rest on them.

“How was it?” Draco asked timidly, gently placing a hand on Harry’s thigh.

“Terrible,” mumbled Harry tiredly.

“What did they want to know?” Hermione said, a sympathetic look on her face.

“They wanted to know about my dream, and how Oliver had canceled that plan to kidnap some muggles… you know, how we reckon they were referring to my Aunt and Uncle. And they wanted to know what Oliver did to me yesterday.” Harry closed his eyes. “They made me repeat the story about ten times. As if they didn’t… believe me.”

***** * ***   
**

Harry felt bad lying to the members of the Order, sure he did. But not bad enough not to lie. Dumbledore had been looking at him somberly the whole time, but Harry had just kept a straight face and tried not to let his face show that he was lying, or that he was troubled about it.

It had been a grueling interview; did Wood say anything to suggest where he was going? Was Wood under the Imperius Curse? Was there anything in his room that may have caught Harry’s eye?

_Gods, I don’t know. I was a bit preoccupied with trying to get Oliver off me and trying not to faint!_

But Harry didn’t tell them that. He told the truth right up until the part when Oliver kissed him. Harry just told them that he had started feeling dizzy, and Oliver attempted to tie him up but Harry had knocked him out.

See. Still basically the same story. Just not as… revealing.

“Yeah, well you know what those high-up-officer-people think of themselves,” said Ron presently, scrunching up his nose. “They think they’re bloody Merlin; they are such snobs.”

Harry nodded absently, yearning to go to bed.

“Hey, I’m going to go upstairs,” Harry said and stood up.

“I’ll come,” Draco said instantly.

“Me too,” declared Ginny, smiling. “You might need the company.”

Harry hesitated for a bit – he really just wanted to sleep. But that would be a giveaway that something was up… and Harry didn’t want to be asked any more probing questions.

“Ok,” he said simply, and led the way out of the kitchen.

It was actually alright, having some company. Ginny and Draco kept Harry busy by providing things to do… like wizards’ chess… and better still, poring over the Quidditch magazines Ron had given him.

Yes, Harry couldn’t deny that they all enjoyed that part.

Around four pm Ginny offered to nip down to the kitchen and grab them all a hot drink and some snacks. She was smiling slightly as she left, like she was doing Harry and Draco a favour other than getting them some food. Harry supposed she was, really, because as soon as she had disappeared through the doorway, Draco sent Harry a grin and stood up from his position on the bed.

“So Harry, how do you propose we spend these precious seconds with just the two of us?”

Harry chuckled and stood also.

“Well, we could, you know, settle our raging boy hormones,” Harry said innocently, and Draco burst into laughter as Harry stood up also, and the two boys met each other in a kiss.

They broke apart and Harry looked into Draco’s silver eyes for a long moment, losing himself in the pools of swirling enthusiasm. He sighed blissfully and laid his head on Draco’s shoulder. Draco slid his fingers onto Harry’s abdomen and pressed his lips lightly on Harry’s neck.

“I know this sounds stupid,” Harry whispered, biting his lip. “But I sort of felt jealous when Ron said that you were in love with Ginny.”

Draco lifted his head in surprise and Harry could feel his eyes on him.

“You know I lo… I’m with you,” Draco said softly, changing his sentence hesitantly.

“I know,” said Harry quickly. “I know it’s stupid… but still.”

“I suppose it is a good thing though,” Draco said with a quiet chuckle. “Now I know you care, if you get jealous over this.”

Harry gave a mock, offended “Oh!” and looked up at Draco, smiling. He leaned in, about to kiss his boyfriend again when they were interrupted by a quick knock and Ginny entering the room.

“Gosh, have you guys got a plot going with Ron and Hermione to completely freak me out?” she commented, laughing.

“Why?” asked Draco interestedly.

“I just walked in on Ron and Hermione…” Ginny shuddered and closed her eyes. “And now you guys as well – although you’re just cute. Seeing your brother doing gods knows what with one of your best friends… not cute.”

Harry let himself out of Draco’s arms and sat down on the bed, trying his hardest _not_ to picture his friends… but failing. Draco laughed and said between giggles,

“The look on your face is priceless.”

Harry smirked and shoved Draco away onto the floor.

When dinner came about, Ron and Hermione didn’t show up, as they said they were ‘busy’ with a ‘homework assignment’ and would grab something to eat later.

As Ginny said, they were probably having a lovely ‘meal’ anyways.

Harry and Draco decided to go to bed after sitting up and playing wizards’ chess with Ginny. When they told Ginny, she sighed and said quite seriously,

“I wish I had a boyfriend living with me… I feel quite the outcast.”

“It’s impossible for you to be an outcast, don’t worry,” Draco laughed, and with Ginny now grinning, they made their way up to their bedroom.

***** * ***   
**

Harry was, yet again, in a dark, shadowy room, which was becoming familiar. It was the same room his recent dreams had been in – the one in Malfoy Manor.

A whimper caught Harry’s ear, and he turned to see the Dark Lord standing menacingly in front of a man who was pressed flat to the floor.

“Tell me!” Voldemort hissed, kicking the man sharply. The man’s breathing was unsteady as he answered.

“I… I tried, my Lord…”

“Liar!” Voldemort shouted, and put the Cruciatus Curse upon him. After a few moments, he lifted the curse and spoke again.

“You will tell me why you did not bring Potter to me, and you will tell me now!”

“Please, have mercy… I was blinded by my own greed…”

“What greed, Wood?” Voldemort scoffed, as if no desires were worthy enough to talk about except his own.

“I… I wanted him,” breathed Oliver. “I wanted him as mine.”

“Foolish boy,” smirked Voldemort, raising his wand once more. “You should know that no one shall ever have Potter. I shall kill Potter. Crucio!”

Oliver Wood cried out in anguish and began to writhe painfully on the floor. Voldemort laughed, the iciness lacing it sending shivers down Harry’s neck.

“Stand up,” Lord Voldemort snarled when Oliver’s screams ended abruptly. “Surely you want to give up the ghost with just a little more poise than that?”

However miraculously, Oliver managed to get to his feet, and flash Voldemort a dirty look.

“I don’t want to follow you anymore,” he spat out, and stumbled out of the room.

Voldemort simply stood there, not in any hurry to collect his Death Eater back.

“If only it were that easy,” he laughed wickedly, and turned back to the fire flickering in the corner.

Harry spun around, and suddenly he was falling, in Oliver’s room at the Leaky Cauldron, falling onto the bed with Oliver’s fast grip on his neck. It was happening all over again… Oliver’s filthy taste… Harry called out as he started to fall again…

***** * ***   
**

Draco was startled out of sleep when he heard a muffled cry. The blankets were strewn on the floor, and Draco now heard a thump.

“Harry?” Draco whispered to the darkness, sitting up and throwing what little of the blankets was left off himself. “Harry?”

A groan came from amid the blankets and then someone stood up, still half tangled in the blankets.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Draco said louder, and crawled across the bed to get a better view. Harry finally staggered out of the blankets and began to walk unsteadily towards the bathroom. Draco saw the light turn on in there, and he followed Harry worriedly.

The sight that met him was not a pleasant one; Harry was being violently sick in the toilet.

“Oh Harry,” Draco exhaled and swiftly went to his side. Harry shivered and collapsed against Draco. Trying to remain calm, Draco was able to manoeuvre Harry over to lean on the edge of the bath.

Draco looked at Harry’s face, and saw that his skin was as white as parchment. His eyes were closed and his scar was almost glowing in the moonlight that was peeking through the small bathroom window.

He didn’t even attempt to get Harry to talk. Draco just sat there with him, his arm slung around his shoulders, watching Harry take deep breaths… until his breathing became steady and his head lolled onto Draco. He was asleep.

Kissing Harry’s cheek gently, Draco carefully moved so he could pick up Harry and carried him into their bedroom, turning off the light as he did so.

“Whatever happened to you Harry, I hope to hear about it in the morning,” Draco murmured anxiously, and he lay Harry down on the bed. After hauling the blankets back up, Draco settled into what would be a long wait ‘till dawn.


	16. Yes, Hermione does swear…

_Chapter 16: Yes, Hermione does swear…_

*** * ***

The rhythmic and almost nervous tapping of his fingers was how Draco coped with waiting for Harry to awake. He had woken early and showered what seemed like hours ago; and now he was perched on the edge of the newly restored bed, waiting. Draco sensed that something was troubling his boyfriend, but Harry wasn’t letting anything slip.

A slight sigh and movement from Harry’s lump under the blankets let Draco know that he was stirring. He allowed himself a brief and relieved smile, and then stood up and touched where he presumed Harry’s shoulder was.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” Draco called softly. After a moment Harry’s messy mop of hair appeared, and he opened his eyes blearily. “Good morning,” Draco chuckled despite his anxiety.

“G’morning,” yawned Harry as he sat up, the sheets sliding down from his effortless yet perfect torso.

“I’m sorry; I really can’t believe it is still morning…” Draco smiled. “I had breakfast a while ago now. So have the others. I could get you something if you want though.”

“That’d be good, yeah,” said Harry. “I don’t really feel like I’ve been asleep as long as you’re making out.”

This rather innocent statement cast a much more despondent mood upon the two boys. Draco and Harry were both remembering what had happened in the middle of the night.

“Harry, what was – “ Draco started saying just as Harry began hesitantly,

“Look, it was –“

“You go,” Draco said quickly.

“Well, I just had this dream, it was nothing important, just made up… and yeah… it was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Harry, it must have been important if it made you physically sick,” Draco pointed out patiently.

“That was just me overreacting,” Harry insisted.

“I don’t think you were,” said Draco. He looked at Harry intensely but Harry avoided his gaze, looking out of the window which was streaming in sunlight.

“Please, it was nothing Draco,” Harry said quietly and firmly. He turned back to Draco and met his eyes. He noticed a steely look in his eyes; determined not to elaborate. After a pause, Draco sighed inwardly and nodded, disappointed.

“Ok. But you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Harry nodded and stood up which effectively ended the conversation.

“I’ll just have my shower and I’ll be right down,” said Harry, sounding considerably more cheerful.

“Sure,” Draco agreed, and left the bedroom to go to the kitchen. He couldn’t, however, shake off the feeling that he was missing something, or had made a mistake of some sort.

He met Ginny in the kitchen. Apparently, Ron had bullied her into getting him his _fifth_ helping of scones.

“Is Harry awake?” Ginny asked, looking up from buttering one of Ron’s scones.

“Yeah, I’m just getting him some breakfast. I guess he was really tired. You know, after yesterday. Being interrogated and all that,” Draco hurriedly added details so she wouldn’t be too suspicious. He added some bread to the toaster, crossing his fingers…

Draco should have known Ginny could see through a bluff.

“What’s wrong?” she said immediately, fixing Draco with such a penetrating stare he almost shivered. He knew it was no use now, and let out a long sigh. Draco slowly walked over to Ginny’s side and gazed dully at Ron’s heap of soon-to-be eaten scones.

“He woke up in the middle of the night, an obviously had such a horrible dream that it made him physically ill,” said Draco. “I talked to him about just before. He claims it’s nothing… that he was just overreacting, but I _know_ there is more to it. I can sense that there’s something he is not telling me. I don’t know why he won’t tell me.”

Ginny looked at Draco kindly, and put down her knife (which still had butter on it).

“Do you think it would help if I spoke to Harry?” Draco contemplated the thought before answering.

“I don’t think it would do any harm,” he said slowly. “It just hurts me to see that Harry isn’t being open about things that are obviously important.”

“Harry has always been one to keep emotions bottled up inside of him. Except for anger.” Ginny smiled briefly. “I thought you had helped him with expressing those feelings. But I guess he still has a little way to go.” Both teenagers were silent for a moment, neither acknowledging the now burnt toast popping out of the toaster. Finally Ginny spoke.

“I think I will have a word to Harry. I won’t try to get him to tell me what’s wrong. No, that won’t work. I will gently push him in your direction, because if there is something he will talk to…” Ginny gave Draco a smile. “It is you.”

Draco nodded, feeling much more calm and understanding of the whole thing now. But of course, Ron had to ruin the moment by charging into the kitchen with a red face full of anger, demanding to know where his god-damn scones were. Ginny rolled her eyes and lightly patted Draco’s hand before _accidentally_ knocking over Ron’s fifth breakfast. Luckily, she defended herself from his attack with a well placed Bat Bogey Hex.

Harry entered the kitchen quarter of an hour later, by which time Draco had some toast ready that was _not_ burnt, and Hermione had successfully removed all of the flapping things from Ron’s face. Ron was just buttering his own scones, looking quite sulky.

“Good morning Harry,” Hermione said pleasantly.

“Or is it more like evening?” teased Ginny. Harry gave her a mock smile and gratefully accepted Draco’s toast. For a little while, no one said anything; Ron simply shot Ginny deadly glares every now and then, and Harry munched on his reasonable stack of toast.

“I’ve been thinking,” Hermione began, filling the quiet kitchen. “I’ve been thinking about Oliver Wood.”

Harry’s eyes snapped up at Hermione and he set down his toast with a cautious look.

“I just can’t figure it out. Why would Oliver Wood become a Death Eater? It… it just doesn’t add up.”

“Maybe he was just evil all along,” shrugged Ron, joining the other four at the table, despite still looking disgruntled. Glancing at Harry, Draco saw that he appeared a bit unsettled but he didn’t move his eyes from Hermione. Draco followed suit, and saw that Hermione was shaking her head.

“It’s more likely that he would have been sorted into Slytherin if he was evil. No offence Draco,” she added quickly. Draco gave her an amused smile which she took as a sign to continue. “And to me, Oliver seemed like a determined and committed person… like if he put his mind to something, he stuck to it the whole way. That’s why it doesn’t make sense that he joined the Death Eaters – changed his way of thinking.”

“So then that means that Oliver didn’t sign up _willingly_ ,” Ginny exclaimed, cottoning on. Hermione nodded, her eyes lighting up like they did when she was working something else.

“That was exactly my next thought. The only logical explanation for him signing up would be that he was threatened with something.”

“What could Wood possibly have that You-Know-Who could threaten him with?” scoffed Ron.

“Plenty of things Ron,” Hermione sighed. “Think about it. He’s a part of the Quidditch team; Voldemort (at this Ron shuddered) could threaten to do something about that. Oliver also has a family, believe it or not,” Hermione raised an eyebrow at Ron. “Of course Voldemort could threaten to kill his family.”

“Stop saying the damn name,” Ron said distractedly. Hermione rolled her eyes and carried on.

“So that’s what I’ve concluded. That Oliver has been threatened to join up with the Death Eaters. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. What does everyone else think?”

“I think that is a fair accusation,” Ginny said slowly, absently twirling a lock of her red hair around her index finger. “The only thing I’d say against it is that isn’t Oliver Wood meant to be strong? Couldn’t he have defended himself if Death Eaters came knocking on his door?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Hermione pondered. “But, mentally, he could not be very strong. Perhaps the Death Eaters just struck a weak side to him which had him on his knees, agreeing with anything they said.”

“Who cares anyway,” Ron said, waving a hand. “He’s a Death Eater, that’s all that really matters.”

“Ron, we have to think more deeply about these things,” Hermione explained with as much patience as she could muster. “It could help us a lot in the long run.”

“How?”

“Well, for on thing, we could try and convince Death Eaters like him that we could defend them. Because, really, they aren’t _true_ Death Eaters. They can’t honestly fall into that crap.”

“Did you just say - !”

“What? Oh, no Ron, I said _trap_ … so yes, that would help a lot.”

“And also it would help us figure out what You-Know-Who threatens people with, so we can do something before he comes to threaten them,” Ginny pointed out.

“Hermione, I’m sure you said – “

“What do you think Harry?”

Harry jumped, looking like he had been startled out of thought.

“Hermione! You did too say – “

“Hush Ron!”

Ron shut his mouth, once more with a sulky frown, but turned his eyes to Harry, just as Ginny, Hermione and Draco did. With a slight chew on his lip, Harry spoke.

“I think that what Hermione is saying is correct. I knew Oliver, and… he was very committed as Quidditch Captain. I think that now he’s a Death Eater… well, he’s different. Being a Death Eater has changed him.”

Draco was pretty sure the other three teenagers wanted to know how Oliver was different (hell, he was dying to know – it could be something to do with Harry’s dream and desire to keep quiet). However, no one dared to pry that far.

“Yes, well, being a Death Eater would change you,” said Hermione matter-of-factly, nodding her head. “Do you have any thoughts to add Draco?”

Now it was Draco’s turn to jump as the attention focused on him. He hadn’t been expecting that they would want to know his opinion.

“Um… yeah, I reckon you’re on the right track,” Draco replied. “Like, it’s definitely a good issue to figure out.”

“A boring issue,” Ron muttered. No one replied to that.

“Right, well I’m going to go and visit the library in this place,” Hermione said, getting eagerly to her feet. “It’s massive!” And off she went, at a rather high speed.

Draco glanced at Ginny, baffled, but she purely laughed and shook her head. Ron looked at Draco with a tad of genuine pity on his face.

“That’s our Hermione,” he summed up.

***** * ***   
**

“What is this, another interrogation?” Harry muttered irritably. Ginny had managed to corner him in the hallway before he could follow the other three to help Mrs Weasley prepare dinner.

“No, Harry,” Ginny sighed. “I just want you to know, I can tell when someone is acting differently. And at the moment, you are that someone.”

“I’m not acting differently,” said Harry, obviously trying not to sound defensive – but in Ginny’s point of view, failing.

“You seem… more reserved since when you spent time at the Leaky Cauldron,” Ginny began, thinking out each word before she said it. She couldn’t have him getting worked up into a temper, or getting the idea that Draco had sent her.

“How am I being reserved?”

“Just by keeping to yourself a bit more and not talking to us as much as you usually would. And I understand that; you got the shock of finding out that your old Quidditch Captain is now a Death Eater, and the very next day you told Ron about you and Draco, which was a huge effort on your part. To top it all off, you had to be questioned by those Ministry officials for _hours_ … yeah, I understand that you would be a bit more reserved. It’s just…” Ginny paused deliberately, watching Harry’s face casually. He didn’t speak, which gave her information anyway – that there was more to it.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?” she asked lightly. Harry held up his left hand and inspected his fingernails as he answered.

“I would say if something was seriously bothering me.”

“Honestly, Harry,” said Ginny. Folding her arms, she continued to look at Harry, wishing, for his sake, that he would just try and open up.

“Yes Ginny, honestly! I would, _if_ it was serious enough.”

“Harry…” He still wasn’t looking at her. Feeling hesitant, Ginny reached out to Harry and touched his raised wrist softly. He jumped as though he had received an electric shock, and quickly fled over to the other side of the corridor.

Ginny opened her mouth in alarm. Harry, usually brave and strong, was now nearly trembling, leaning against the wall of the corridor taking a deep breath. She watched, stunned, as he closed his eyes and wrung his left wrist as though trying to shake something off. He seemed to have forgotten Ginny was there.

After a couple of seconds, his eyes flicked open and he stared at Ginny with accentuated green irises that were frozen with fear.

“Harry, I – I’m sorry,” stumbled the normally quick-with-words Ginny. “What…”

“Just… just don’t. Keep – just… don’t. Don’t worry. I… I’ll be down for dinner in a minute,” Harry said in an unsteady voice. He swept past Ginny and disappeared, running upstairs. Ginny stood in the corridor, unable to move her legs due to shock.

Dimly, she realized her mum was calling her. Ginny tried to take a calming breath, and she threw her quivering hands into her pockets before entering the kitchen.

***** * ***   
**

The Weasleys definitely did eat more than most families, mused Draco as he helped Mrs Weasley get dinner ready. He and Hermione were gathering some cutlery and Ron was dusting off plates for the mountain of food cooking on its own accord. Draco turned with a handful of knifes, and realized that Ginny and Harry were missing in action. As if reading his thoughts, Mrs Weasley yelled,

“Ginny! Harry! Where are you? Dinner’s just about ready?”

Draco and Hermione went through to the dining room and set the table, and soon after Ginny walked in. He could tell something was wrong in an instant. Ginny’s face was pale underneath her many freckles and she moved like she was attempting to look relaxed but it wasn’t fooling Draco.

“Ginny?” Draco said, his tone surprised. Hermione glanced up at this, and joined Draco in staring at Ginny.

“What?” replied Ginny, starting and looking at them distractedly.

“What’s wrong…?” he asked cautiously. She blinked a few times and then rolled her shoulders.

“Nothing. I don’t know what you mean,” she stated. Ginny raised her eyebrow, and looked so like her normal self Draco began to think he had imagined it.

“But… you’re very white,” Draco pressed on. She gave him an unreadable look and sat down gracefully.

“I just saw a huge spider out in the corridor, that’s all. Quite nasty when you met them face to face.”

Hermione opened her mouth at this, looking like she was going to point out something, but right then Ron, Mrs Weasley, and Harry all appeared in the room, so she decided otherwise.

“Well, tuck in,” Mrs Weasley invited, waving her hand, and all the cooked dishes materialized onto the table. As Hermione lent over towards Draco, under the pretence of choosing some potatoes, she whispered to him,

“Ginny isn’t afraid of spiders in the slightest. That was a bad lie.”

Draco exchanged a quick glance with Hermione, wondering what all this meant, and then looked up at Ginny. She looked much more composed now and had regained colour in her cheeks. He now turned to Harry, who had sat at the end of the table beside Ron and, Draco noted, as far away from Ginny as he could get. Harry also had a white face, and his hand seemed to be trembling as he poured a bit of gravy onto his plate. Surely he hadn’t seen the ‘spider’ too.

Swallowing his panic, Draco caught Hermione’s eye and gave her a meaningful look before tipping his head Harry’s way. She got the hint and glanced at him furtively out of the corner of her eye. A moment passed and Hermione looked back at Draco. She shook her head, signaling to Draco that she didn’t know what was going on, and the worry in her eyes told him she didn’t like it.

That was exactly how Draco felt.

The tense dinner seemed to go on for an age; no one spoke much, and Mrs Weasley was the only one who attempted to make light conversation. Even Ron could tell that something was up, which meant that it much have been extremely obvious (no offence to Ron).

Finally Mrs Weasley stood and levitated all the dishes out into the kitchen where she began to tidy up. Ron sat there for a moment, looking around at the other four silent teenagers.

“I’m gonna go…” he said nervously, and left the dining room at high speed. Ginny rolled her eyes and stood up.

“I better go and finish Snape’s essay; I don’t really fancy being put in detention for the next year,” she said, and excused herself. Draco unconsciously looked at Harry, who also got to his feet. He, however, did not even offer an excuse to leave; Harry simply pushed his chair in and strode swiftly out of the room.

Hermione and Draco faced each other.

“I want to know what the hell is going on,” she whispered, her use of swear word clearly showing her distress.

“Likewise,” said Draco. “They were both so white… what happened to them?”

To that, of course, Hermione had no answer. Draco tried his best to ignore the sickening terror in his stomach and rose from his chair.

“I… I’m going to talk to Harry,” Draco said at last. “I’ll see if he can tell me what’s wrong. Although,” he added bitterly. “I don’t expect he’ll say anything.”

“And I’ll ask Ginny,” Hermione said, as though she was reassuring herself. “I just… it was so frosty before it was scary.”

Draco and Hermione both climbed the stairs together, Hermione leaving Draco at the first landing and walking slowly to her and Ginny’s door. Draco carried onto past Ron’s room and up to the second landing where Harry’s and his bedroom was situated.

When he entered, Harry was nowhere to be seen, so Draco assumed he was in the bathroom. He sat down on his bed with a feeling of numbness, and tried to plan what he would say to Harry. Naturally, that only made Draco more confused than before, so he simply blocked out all thoughts and imagined he was flying through the trees at Hogwarts.

A minute later Harry came into the bedroom from the bathroom, which halted Draco’s broomstick dream. Harry paused, avoiding Draco’s eyes.

“Harry,” Draco said quietly, sounding very serious even to his own ears. “I am worried to death about you. I just don’t know anymore. I don’t know how you’re feeling; I don’t know what you’re thinking… I don’t know what’s happened to you, because you won’t tell me. Please, you’re hurting yourself. And others around you.” Draco stopped there, unwilling to elaborate on how the awkward dinner was mostly Harry’s fault. He didn’t want to make Harry feel any worse than he probably already did.

***** * ***   
**

He hated remembering. He hated those stupid flashbacks, which caught him in a web of memories until he finally shook himself out of it. By which time it was usually too late.

Yes, Harry hated remembering. That was exactly what Ginny had made him do when she touched his wrist. He _knew_ that her soft touch was nothing like Oliver’s tough grip, but it still triggered the memory.

And so now Harry was standing there, beside his bed, listening to how Draco wanted him to open up.

Harry stayed silent for a long time.

“Draco,” he said almost inaudibly. Draco moved slightly, looking unsure as to whether or not Harry actually spoke, but he replied.

“Yeah?”

“Can… can you come here?” Draco stood slowly and walked around to stand in front of Harry with a worried expression. Harry didn’t know what was going to happen, but deep inside he knew he had to confront it.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Kiss me,” he said softly. “I need to see…” Draco bit his lip briefly, and then stepped closer to Harry. Swallowing thickly, Harry tried to calm his throbbing heart. Their dry lips hesitantly touched, and Draco slipped his tongue against Harry’s. Harry’s palms were sticky with sweat.

Gaining more confidence, Draco’s arms curled around Harry’s neck. Harry began to feel panicky; however, he wanted this to work out so he pushed it further down inside of himself. Draco was moving them both back, towards the bed – too fast in Harry’s opinion. He attempted to say something but his words were consumed in Draco’s kiss. Before he could stop Draco, he had pushed Harry down onto the bed.

Draco moved his knees up to sit on both sides of his groin – just like Oliver had done. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, Harry gulped in a breath, but Draco didn’t see because he had closed his eyes for a moment. He lent down to Harry and kissed him – and Harry sunk into a flashback.

It was Oliver’s mouth that was on his own; the kiss from Draco that once tasted sweet was Oliver’s filthy kiss. Harry weakly curled his fingertips into his palm, trying his best to control his rising panic. It was like he was reliving it all over again.

Harry turned his head, and thankfully, the image of Oliver faded to show Draco pulling back, looking a bit puzzled but obviously thought things were back to normal. He gave Draco a half smile, and Draco fed off that by leaning down once more and pressing delicate kisses against his neck. Draco moved his hands down to Harry’s chest… but it wasn’t Draco anymore. It was Oliver unbuttoning his shirt. It was Oliver who was looking at him with a crazed glitter in his eyes.

“Mmhmmm – “ Harry said, the fear that he couldn’t ignore muffling his voice.

“Harry?” said Draco presently, pulling Harry out of his memory. Harry closed his eyes so he wouldn’t give away how unsettled he felt, and forced himself to nod, hoping Draco would continue. He had to fix this. He _had_ to.

Aware that Draco was now kissing his shoulder blade, Harry concentrated on not remembering. It was _not_ Oliver. Oliver had bit him. Draco was always gentle with Harry…

Draco’s teeth bumped against Harry’s shoulder, and he jumped, the panic quickly rising so it was almost bubbling out of his chest. Oh gods. Oliver was moving his hands down to Harry’s pants, grinning evilly. Just as the hands began to unbuckle Harry’s belt, Harry decided that he couldn’t control it any longer.

His panicky feeling exploded.

Harry cried out and tried to sit up, but Draco must have been confused and too slow to react. Half a second later, Harry raised his right fist, and hit Oliver hard (who was actually Draco but Harry’s memory blocked out that image) in the side of his face, just as he had last time.

And, abruptly, Harry couldn’t see Oliver anymore. That nightmare of a vision was gone. It was Draco who was falling, unbalanced, onto the bed next to Harry. It was Draco’s cheek that had burst open and was bleeding onto the sheets below. It was Draco, gentle and caring Draco, all along.


	17. A Strange and yet Inevitable Phenomenon

_Chapter 17: A Strange and yet Inevitable Phenomenon_

*** * ***

It’s uncanny – when something bad is happening, something you really would not like to remember, your memory seems to work overtime. The event is scorched into your mind, and time always slows down for you to get a clear and precise image of every detail.

This strange and yet inevitable phenomenon, Draco concluded, sucks.

And, believe it or not, Draco happened to be experiencing such a thing right now. The air froze around the two boys, horrified emerald irises staring right back at Draco’s undeniably glistening silver ones.

Draco’s mind felt oddly blank. He couldn’t even begin to feel the sharp pain in his cheek. A shaky finger belonging to Harry reached out and gently brushed Draco’s cheek, the one he had punched. Draco couldn’t feel his finger touching his skin, but as he blinked, Harry took a sharp breath. He was glancing between his finger (now coloured with Draco’s blood) and Draco’s face. Draco made a slight movement, yearning to wrap Harry up in his arms.

This movement brought Harry out of his trance.

Scrabbling off the bed, Harry moved to stand in the middle of the room. His shoulders were sagging and he looked ready to crumple over.

“D… Draco…” mumbled Harry, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. His vision now considerably more blurry, Draco blinked again and saw Harry fight a sob.

“Draco, I… I’m… s-so sorry…” Harry gulped. The scar on Harry’s forehead was very much emphasized due to the pasty white of his skin. He wrung his wrist quickly before beginning to stumble backwards to the door, still facing Draco.

“I… I can’t,” he got out finally. Without pausing, Harry turned and fled, near slamming the door behind him.

Silence. It pressed into Draco’s skin, tantalizingly taunting him to break it. Feeling utterly lost and alone, Draco left the bed and drifted aimlessly into the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and was appalled to see blood dripping from his left cheek, not mixing at all well with the slightly swollen lips and his pale skin.

Without enough energy to do anything else, Draco sat down heavily to lean against the bath. Just like Harry and Draco had done together some times before.

It was there that Draco had comforted Harry, (amazingly, it was only yesterday) after a still unexplained nightmare. Draco had also consoled Harry, leaning against that faithful bath, when he had become upset by being overwhelmed with his godfather. With a horrible pang of pain, Draco remembered the most important moment the two boys had shared in that very spot.

Draco and Harry had kissed right there for the first time ever. Started their relationship.

Closing his eyes, Draco drew his legs to his chest and hugged them tightly. His protective ball was designed to make him feel less lonely… but he found that he couldn’t feel anything at all.

A scary numbness was spreading over Draco. His limbs were slack and unmoving, and Draco’s chin rested on his knees as if it was glued there. For several moments, Draco could conjure no thoughts into his mind; he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

However, even this deep-freezing feeling could not halt his mind for long. Draco saw again Harry’s panic etched into his face… why hadn’t he moved away sooner? He should never have agreed to even start kissing Harry; he should have known that Harry was too unbalanced and unsettled right now. He had only done it because Harry had looked so serious, so pleading… but Draco should have known.

Draco now opened his eyes, willing the tears not to escape. He blinked a couple of times to try and ward them off, but he didn’t think he achieved much.

And then he wondered whether it would be there that they undid their relationship as well.

***** * ***   
**

Hot tears rolled down Harry’s face, as if on their own accord. Try as he might, there was no stopping these stubborn ones. Harry lent silently on the door to his and Draco’s bedroom for a moment, attempting to control his emotions.

No chance of that.

Harry felt an immense guilt at leaving Draco alone like that, with no explanation. But he couldn’t do it. He had tried to fix everything, pretend that he was alright, but he couldn’t do it. Gaining strength from the door, Harry pushed himself up and willed himself to move.

He stood and turned, contemplating his options. He would be relatively hidden downstairs somewhere, in the maze of rooms… but Harry found he couldn’t muster the energy to go all the way down there. The thought of bumping into Ron, Hermione, or especially Ginny... wasn’t that appealing. So, Harry hesitantly walked a way to his left.

Before he could make it any further, however, a familiar voice called his name.

“Harry? What are you doing?” Harry froze. He looked over his shoulder in alarm and his eyes fell on Ron. One foot was resting on the top of the landing and the other was on the step below. His face wore an expression of pure bewilderment.

“What is going on with everyone tonight?” Ron now asked when Harry didn’t answer. The previously dried up tears seemed to return with power, and a couple trailed down his face. Ron lifted his other foot up onto the landing – and this motion triggered Harry’s need to move again.

Harry turned and began to swiftly make his way down the corridor, searching for a good place to go, a place to hide…

“Harry!” Ron’s footsteps were audible behind Harry, which only caused him to scurry on. “What in Merlin’s name is wrong?”

Afraid that Ron would catch up to him, Harry darted into a small room to his right and quickly locked the door behind him with a powerful charm. Harry collapsed onto the floor, panting more out of panic than from his fast walking. He closed his eyes as Ron’s footsteps stopped, and prayed to whatever gods there were to make sure his locking charm was strong enough.

The door rattled slightly as Ron tried to open it, but to Harry’s relief, it remained shut.

“Harry? Are you in there?” Ron asked intelligently. Harry sighed and rested his head on his fist, still tightly held from hitting Draco. “Harry, can you let me in? I can tell something is wrong.”

“Ron, I’m fine,” replied Harry quietly. “I just… need to be alone right now.”

“Why? Has that ferret done something to you?” Harry winced at the aggression in Ron’s voice. “I always knew we shouldn’t trust – “

“No, it’s my fault, not Draco’s,” Harry said firmly. There was a ‘humph!’ as Ron gave up that theory, and then he said,

“Well…”

“Ron, just go.” Eyes still closed, Harry realized with a jolt how weak his voice sounded. After a few seconds, Ron thumped away, and Harry was left alone. With silence being his only comfort.

“I’m sorry Draco.”

***** * ***   
**

“I told you ‘Mione, there is nothing to tell!”

Hermione sighed for the millionth time, and tried her utmost to regain some patience. She had just pleaded with Ginny to tell her what had happened in the hallway before dinner, but Ginny, stubborn as ever, was not budging.

“But Ginny, you were white as a sheet,” Hermione started again.

“How horribly cliché,” Ginny snapped from her seat on her bed. Hermione noted that she looked uncharacteristically defensive, which of course only increased Hermione’s desire for the truth.

“Look, I know you’re not afraid of spiders. That was a bad lie.”

“So what if it was. That doesn’t mean I’m hiding anything.”

“Ginny,” Hermione said, taking a calming breath. “It’s a proven fact that people lie to avoid trouble. I want to know – I _need_ to know what trouble _you’re_ avoiding.” Hermione paused, waiting to see if Ginny was going to speak. When she simply averted her gaze, Hermione continued in a much quieter tone. “It could have something to do with Harry. And if it does, well… it’s breaking Draco’s heart not knowing.”

Finally, Hermione’s words seemed to have tugged at Ginny’s conscience. She slowly brought her eyes up to Hermione’s.

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s just… Harry, he…” Ginny stopped for a moment, and Hermione caught a rare glimpse of how helpless Ginny was feeling. Ginny had grown up a lot in the past year, and learnt that not revealing weaknesses had its advantages. However, for her to let down her guard like this… well, it showed Hermione that this must be something significant.

“I asked him what was wrong. I was desperate to – I don’t know, do something to get him to open up to somebody. Draco had already told me how Harry was refusing to talk about it to him, so I was just going to… set him in the right direction,” sighed Ginny. She crossed her legs, rested her arms on her knees and let her head fall into her hands.

“I’m guessing that didn’t work?” Hermione said, still in a soft voice, as if afraid to ruin a spell.

“No. It didn’t. But… that’s not what scared me,” Ginny admitted. “He was denying the fact that he wouldn’t go to anyone for help… and I – I reached out and touched his wrist.” Hermione was surprised to hear Ginny sounded upset.

“What’s wrong with that?” asked Hermione, bemused. “I mean, I know he’s gay but…”

“It had nothing to do with that, I’m sure.” She shook her head and opened her eyes. “He… Harry ran over to the other side of the hall, looking absolutely petrified. He was all shaky, and leaning on the wall for support. It was scary. I don’t know what I did to him.”

“Then what happened?”

“He left,” Ginny said flatly. “I don’t know anything else. I wish I did though.”

The girls were quiet for a moment, Hermione absorbing all that she had heard. Suddenly, a terrible thought struck her.

“What wrist was it?”

“Left,” Ginny said, raising her eyebrow slightly. “Why?”

“What if…” she trailed off. “What if Oliver Wood gave him the Dark Mark?”

Ginny’s face recovered some colour again, and she let out a laugh despite the situation.

“Hermione, think about what you just said. Harry Potter, getting branded with the Dark Mark?”

“I was just going through all of the possible explanations,” Hermione said, blushing but smiling as well.

“I think it may have something to do with Wood nonetheless,” Ginny said thoughtfully, her grin fading.

“Ok then, let’s go!” Hermione said, moving towards the door. Even though Ginny had got her usual composure back, she couldn’t mask her deep amazement.

“What do you mean?”

“We have to go and tell Draco, and we have to get Harry to talk,” Hermione said, rather forcefully.

“Um…” Ginny still looked shocked at Hermione’s sudden taking-charge.

“This has gone on too long,” she said wisely. Ginny hesitated for a second, but then stood up and shrugged.

“Lead the way then.”

Hermione and Ginny entered the corridor, and made their way to the staircase, heading for Harry and Draco’s room, but were met halfway up by Ron.

“Harry is acting really weirdly,” Ron exclaimed before either of the girls can say anything.

Ginny rolled her eyes, and Hermione bit her lip to hide a smile.

“So you’ve noticed now too,” Ginny said, with as little sarcasm as she could manage. Which, ultimately, did not work too well for her.

“ _Yes_ ,” Ron replied with emphasis. “I caught him running off down this corridor – “ Ron waved an impatient hand up the staircase, “And then he locked himself in a room. He sounded… strange.”

“Oh?” Hermione admired Ginny’s perfectly curved eyebrow. “Well, that _is_ weird,” she said grudgingly, and glanced at Hermione.

“What of Draco?” She asked Ron, now biting her lip in worry rather than amusement.

“Harry did mention him…” Ron said slowly.

“Well, what did he say?” Ginny demanded, obviously annoyed at Ron’s lack of urgency.

“That it wasn’t Malfoy’s fault… it was his fault…” said Ron, with his usual confused face.

“I wonder what’s happened,” Hermione said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. Judging by Ginny’s now uneasy frown, she guessed she had failed.

“Ok, I’ll go and find Draco,” Ginny now became the leader. “Seeing as I… well, I understand him. And you follow Ron, Hermione… and… I don’t know. Talk to Harry I guess.” Ginny rubbed her temple. “I just hope it isn’t serious.”

Hermione watched Ginny take off ahead of her and Ron, marching quickly up the stairs.

“Why do you think something is _seriously_ wrong?” Ron asked, looking at Hermione carefully. Hermione shook her head feebly.

“Ginny just said how Harry is acting really different, and surely you noticed how white he was at dinner.”

He nodded, looking slightly affronted at the fact that she doubted his… _superior_ attention to detail. Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes and started up the staircase.

“Lead the way then,” she said softly, mirroring Ginny’s earlier response.

***** * ***   
**

Why time chooses to pass at a leisurely rate when something bad was happening, Ginny would never know. It seemed several years before she reached the top of the stairs. She knew she was almost running to Harry and Draco’s room, but it felt like she was crawling.

Ginny wrenched the door open with a surprising amount of strength, and jumped when she saw no one in the room. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting… perhaps a broken Draco, strewn across the floor, unconscious… but she hadn’t been expecting this emptiness.

Creeping into the room, the red haired noted the ruffled sheets. Ginny moved into the centre of the room now, still searching for signs of movement, when a quiet whimper reached her ears.

She turned and saw the source at once. Draco. Ginny walked slowly towards the bathroom, stood in the doorway, and took in Draco’s appearance sadly.

Draco was curled up in a tiny ball, his face pressed hopelessly against his knees. His fragile body was being racked with obstinate sobs, and his shoulders trembled uncontrollably. Ginny was amazed that he was being very silent – it was by pure chance that he let out a whimper in the first place.

“Draco?” Ginny offered softly. He seemed to start at the sudden human company, and lifted his head a fraction. Draco’s red-rimmed, shining eyes met Ginny’s and he immediately began to wipe his tears away.

“Draco… it’s ok, it’s ok to cry…” Ginny moved into the bathroom, and kneeled beside Draco. When he still rubbed his cheeks frantically, she took his hand into her own, and was shocked to see blood on his hand.

“What… how did this happen?” She asked, tracing the blood back to his cut cheek. Draco shook his head and his body shuddered with another sob. Feeling a wave of sympathy overcome her, Ginny pulled out her wand and muttered a cleaning spell to clean his clothes where blood had spilt, and a basic healing spell she had learnt from Hermione. His cheek stopped bleeding and simply bore a bruise which was a light purple.

After this was done, Ginny kneeled there, wondering what to do next. Draco was still shivering, seemingly unable to stop himself, and inconsolable. Ginny didn’t think he would hear anything she said anyway, so she lowered herself to the ground and crossed her legs. Hoping she would be of some support.

She sat there a good ten minutes. Ginny almost began to believe that Draco would never speak again. Certainly, his tears always seemed to resurface.

“He doesn’t love me,” Draco said hoarsely, finally.

“You don’t know that,” Ginny said immediately, but gently. But Draco shook his head in earnest, a lone tear leaving his silver pools.

“He… he ran away… saying he couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?” she replied in a hushed voice. Draco again shook his head, indicating that he didn’t know. It seemed less painful than talking.

Ginny sighed and put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. He flinched, so she withdrew it quickly.

“I’m sorry,” she gave him a sad smile. She had known the spell to heal his cheek, but to heal a heart… neither spoke for a moment. Ginny was just getting used to the quietness when Draco broke it.

“I have to… to leave.”

“What?” Ginny arched an eyebrow in anxiety and fought her confusion.

“I can’t stay here, if Harry doesn’t love me. I have wanted to say it to him so many times… but I’ve always chickened out. I am so stupid. I… I couldn’t stay here if… it would be torture,” Draco muttered, mostly talking to himself. Ginny was still staring at him, shocked, when Draco actually stood up.

“No! Draco, you have to stay here,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm in a firm grip. “If you don’t the Death Eaters will catch you and force you to get the Dark Mark. Either that, or kill you. You can’t do that to Harry… to us… to yourself.”

Draco let out a deep breath and his stiff stance relaxed. He rubbed his eyes, looking more tired and old than Ginny thought he ever could.

“This is just… so confusing.”

“Hopefully I can help you there,” an equally tired voice said behind Ginny.

***** * ***   
**

When Draco heard that familiar voice, his body tensed again and he carefully brought his gaze up from the floor. It was Harry, his Harry, looking resigned to the fact that he was about to literally explain his heart out.

He wanted to say something, anything to break the awkward hush, but his throat had suddenly dried up like a desert. Biting his lip, Draco’s eyes darted around and came to rest on Ginny. She smiled reassuringly and stood with grace. Without saying a word, without breaking that damn silence, Ginny left the bathroom.

Draco was unwilling to look at Harry’s face. He was unsure what he would see there when he did, and wouldn’t be able to bear it if told him what he did not want to know.

“Draco?” Harry’s soft whisper floated in the quiet air, and before he knew what he was doing, Draco looked up at Harry’s face. His eyes glistened unhappily, matching the sad twist of his lips. He held his breath, still not speaking.

“Where do you want to sit while we talk? Merlin knows we need to,” said Harry. Draco finally cleared his throat and tried to force the tears out of his eyes.

“Here’s good,” he managed, his voice raspy. The Gryffindor boy nodded and watched as Draco sat down, leaning on that bath once again. Harry joined him, making sure there was a distance between them.

“I’m sorry,” Harry started ruefully. Draco fixed his eyes on his fingernails, which clasped his hands together in his lap. “Although I don’t suppose those two words mean much. They’re too weak. But I need to explain first. Explain everything.

“I guess I should start at the beginning. With when I went to meet Oliver at the Leaky Cauldron for the second time.” Harry paused as he sighed. “I should have listened to you. You spent ages trying to persuade me not to go. Your intuition is obviously working well. Mine’s crap. Anyways, only when I got there did I begin to feel nervous. I thought maybe I should make an excuse of some sort, to get out of this uncomfortable environment. But then he was really friendly, so I relaxed a bit. He offered me something to drink, as you know, and he must have put some pretty powerful sleeping potion in it. And this is where I wasn’t exactly… truthful.”

Draco turned his head to look at Harry intently, his tears gone. For days he had been yearning to know why Harry had been acting so differently, and now that was possible, if he just reached out to Harry and unlocked the truth. However, it seemed suddenly scary… did he really want to know?

“I didn’t just escape right then. Oliver… he… he nearly raped me.”

Letting out a hiss, Draco squeezed his eyes shut painfully, as though it would shut out those words, make them false. Questions thundered through Draco’s mind, but he didn’t let himself ask them, for fear that Harry might not keep speaking.

Draco opened his eyes and stared straight at Harry. To his surprise, Harry looked incredibly relieved.

“Sorry, I’m not happy about the whole thing, it’s just that I’m so glad to finally have that off my shoulders. Right. Well. He…” Harry stopped, wringing his wrist uneasily. “Yeah, he just started… kissing me and… well, that’s what you were afraid of, what you thought would happen. I freaked out. I just punched him and then stunned him. By then I knew that he must be a Death Eater. I thought he was… taking advantage of me, just to get me to Voldemort. But then, that night… I had a dream.

“I dreamt that Voldemort was demanding to know why he hadn’t brought me to him, and Oliver said that he was blinded by his own greed.” Harry’s face was slightly screwed up, half in effort to remember, and half in not wanting to remember. “He wanted… oh, I don’t know what he wanted. He wanted me. But Voldemort wouldn’t let him have me… and then he left Voldemort. He said that he didn’t want to follow him anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Draco asked before he could stop himself.

“I don’t know, Draco,” said Harry quietly.

“And… why did that dream make you… ill?” added Draco, albeit hesitantly, not wanting to seem insensitive.

Shaking his head wearily, Harry replied,

“It just turned a bit nasty. The whole thing started to replay in my mind. It was horrible.”

There was a pause, in which Draco felt the first waves of forgiveness for Harry. He wriggled over, closing the gap between them, and stroked Harry’s shoulder and neck bones gently. The tension was thick there. Harry’s eyes closed as he began to relax, and he leaned more fully against the bath. Draco swept his fingers to hang around Harry’s shoulders and gently lowered his head to rest beside Harry’s. Both boys sighed at the contact, content to simply feel. It had been a long time since they had been at complete peace with each other.

Harry turned to face Draco and softly kissed him. Draco let Harry’s tongue nudge its way into his mouth, as though memorizing the taste. It was a kiss of understanding, and as it deepened, so did the rebonding of the two boys’ relationship.

“I’m glad that… we have everything out there now. It was honestly too hard to continue with that… uncertainty,” Draco whispered when their lips separated.

“I’m sorry,” Harry met Draco’s gaze nervously. Draco gave him a smile, however, and pressed a light kiss on Harry’s nose.

“Don’t worry, I understand now. Just don’t do it again – I couldn’t go too much longer without sexual needs being met,” he joked. Harry grinned.

“Of course the Slytherin would only have sex on his mind.”

“I’m sure you couldn’t wait to jump me either,” Draco laughed and hugged Harry to him tighter.

“Draco, I can’t breathe!”

“If you couldn’t breathe you wouldn’t be talking.”

“Not so tight! Or else I won’t do as much as kiss you for a week!”

Draco let go immediately, not that he _truly_ believed Harry’s threat.

“Come on, it’s late, and I’m actually rather tired,” Harry smiled beautifully and stood up, Draco still attached to him.

“Are you sure you want to sleep?” asked Draco slyly. The yawn that followed betrayed him though.

“That can wait.” Laughing, Harry pulled Draco into the bedroom, and the pair shut the door, changed into their boxers, and climbed into bed.

“I… I love you Harry,” Draco whispered, settling into Harry chest. He felt Harry start slightly, but then he kissed Draco’s hair.

“I love you too Draco.”

Draco could feel the smile buried in his hair, and couldn’t deny his own broad smile that carried him into sweet dreams.


	18. To Ride a Broomstick

_Chapter 18: To Ride a Broomstick_

*** * ***

Soft hair tickled Harry’s lips. It was strangely reassuring, and when Harry remembered whose hair it was he knew why. He opened his eyes a crack, only a slice of sun splashing through the gap in the curtains. Draco was sound asleep, cradled in Harry’s arms.

Harry’s face lit up with a smile at the sleeping beauty in front of him. The blonde hair was splayed on his shoulder, almost looking like a halo. It brushed silkily against Harry’s skin every time Draco moved slightly. The blankets were resting halfway down his chest, tempting Harry with a creamy torso.

Draco’s smooth and healthily pale lips were held together perfectly, and Harry couldn’t help tilting his head down and kissing them. Draco began to stir at once. Draco turned over so that his face was now buried into Harry’s neck, and his leg sleepily moved to become tangled with Harry’s. His pulse quickened.

“Morning,” Draco murmured, eyes remaining shut.

“Morning Draco,” Harry chuckled. Draco smiled and trailed his fingers over Harry’s chest. The gentleness at which they touched Harry made his breath hitch.

“Did you sleep well?” asked Draco, oblivious to the effect he was having on Harry.

“Uh huh,” Harry breathed. Lean fingers touched the skin on his belly, slowly but steadily making their wicked way lower. Draco’s eyes were still closed.

“Yeah? Me too. That’s a near miracle,” Draco said, voice slightly muffled by Harry’s shoulder. His breath ghosted over Harry’s skin, spreading a tingling sensation.

“Mmm…” Harry tried to agree, but his assent was more of a failed suppressed moan.

“You can’t be turned on, not this early in the day,” Draco said with amusement, finally opening his eyes to look at Harry. “Or have you had sweet dreams?”

“No,” Harry said truthfully, blushing under Draco’s mock innocence. “I have the real thing, remember? I don’t need to dream it.”

“Daydreams, then?” Draco laughed.

“No, I, er… I am so not turned on!” Harry’s cheeks were flushed as he tried to deny it.

“Your body tells me differently,” Draco whispered with a grin. He shuffled closer to Harry, if that was possible. The friction it created sent sparks through Harry. He hadn’t felt so alive in days. Draco’s fingers drifted lower, under the blankets, and ever-so-lightly stroked Harry’s erection with one finger (the part of his body that was heavily betraying his previous statement) through the thin material of his boxers.

This time, Harry couldn’t stop himself uttering a moan. His eyelids fluttered shut, and he tried to hide his face in Draco’s hair.

“Draco, you are such a tease.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Draco said in Harry’s ear. Harry could imagine the smirk on Draco’s face and smirked as well. Draco laughed softly, apparently reading his thoughts. A skilled tongue flicked over Harry’s ear lobe, gently sucking it for a brief second. Then, however, Draco began to move away.

“What are you doing?” asked Harry. He was surprised to hear that he was breathless.

“I have an idea.”

“Me too,” Harry grinned, and kissed the nearest part of Draco, his chest. “It involves me, you, this bed, and some serious blow jobs.”

“Oh, but Harry,” Draco lent forward until his lips were almost touching Harry’s. “Isn’t that unoriginal? You won’t be able to resist this.”

Harry stared at Draco’s lips, as though hypnotized. Draco was right; he couldn’t resist those lips…

“Come on.” Draco smirked and got up from the bed. Harry sat there, too flushed and turned on to move. As the blonde began to walk into the bathroom, however, Harry felt the forces of attraction pull him to his feet.

“Draco, what are we doing?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” said Draco. Both in the bathroom, Draco shut the door and locked it. Harry raised a curious eyebrow, but Draco only answered with another smirk. “Brush your teeth.”

“What?” Harry groaned. “Draco, I can hardly… do you have any idea… Draco!” he pleaded.

Being Draco, he didn’t even consider Harry’s begging.

“If you don’t, you’ll just have to stay there, extremely sexually frustrated, and watch me shower alone,” Draco said, already applying toothpaste to his own toothbrush.

Sighing in defeat, Harry reached for his toothbrush.

“Oh don’t worry, you will be glad you obeyed me. You’re about to get that steamy shower you wanted a couple of days ago.”

***** * ***   
**

“That,” Harry panted, twenty minutes later. “Was one of your better ideas.” Draco slowly opened his eyes, his breathing matching Harry’s.

“I knew you’d come ‘round,” he said with a grin. With a tilt of his head, Draco studied Harry. He was leaning against the shower wall, warm water just touching his toes. Draco’s eyes couldn’t leave Harry’s scar. It slashed between Harry’s messy wisps of hair, making its presence explicitly known. It was amazing, almost scary, to think of all the people Voldemort had killed, but had left Harry with only this. Draco quite liked Harry’s scar too.

Eventually the raven haired boy regained enough composure to get his breath back (Draco took full credit for making him so breathless) and grabbed a bottle of shampoo.

“Want some?” he waved the bottle in Draco’s face. Draco blinked and inhaled the scent with a smile.

“Mmm, blueberry… my favourite.”

A goofy yet adorable grin plastered itself on Harry’s face and he gathered some shampoo in his hands.

“Let me put this in your hair,” he said. Draco moved in front of Harry in answer and let himself melt into the pleasurable massaging.

“So…” Draco began, not quite knowing how to pitch this. “Are you, you know, ok now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, ok with… us doing this. Doing… what we did.”

“You mean giving each other fantastic blow jobs?” Harry laughed.

“Well… with the whole sexual side of things.”

“Yes Draco, I’m fine now,” Harry’s tone became gentle and serious. “That thing with Oliver… I think now that I’ve resolved it, I’ve dealt with it. It’s not an issue anymore.”

Draco nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Don’t feel that you have to – I don’t know – treat me like a china doll or anything. I’m over that now.”

“You want me to play you rough then, hey?” Draco turned to face Harry, brushing their lips together. Harry put a halt to the teasing and captured Draco’s lips with his own.

“That could be interesting,” he said, sliding his arms around Draco’s neck. Kissing Harry’s jawline, Draco mumbled,

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Harry smiled into Draco’s neck, the latter sucking on his familiar ear lobe.

“I’m happy. We haven’t done anything for a long time… too long. So yes… I’m happy.”

When the pair had finished their long awaited ‘steamy’ shower, they made their way down to the kitchen.

“Morning,” Draco winked at Ginny, who was settled with a mug of hot chocolate. She flashed him a smile back, understanding Draco’s wink perfectly.

“Um… good morning boys,” Hermione looked up from the Daily Prophet and surveyed them cautiously. Ron looked from Draco to Harry and back again, and nervously gulped his pumpkin juice.

“It’s ok,” Harry laughed fondly at the looks on his best friend’s faces. “We’re… we’re back to normal now.”

Hermione and Ron both sighed and freed themselves of their tense positions.

“If you’re ever ‘normal’,” said Ron with an eyebrow raised, but with a faint smile. Harry grinned and walked over to the bench to cook some pancakes for himself and Draco.

“I’m glad,” Hermione said, looking back at the newspaper. “You two were really working on my nerves.”

“You should see her fingernails, or lack of,” Ginny grinned. “You couldn’t have separated her them from her mouth all last night.” Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny, who merely smiled at Draco. Draco lent against the kitchen counter next to Harry.

“Is there anything that we should know about in there?” he nodded at Hermione’s paper.

“Funny that you ask,” said Hermione. “There always is.” She flicked a couple of pages back, and read out loud.

“ _Early this morning Oliver Wood, Keeper for Puddlemere United, was nowhere to be found. He was staying in a room at the Leaky Cauldron, as he was currently on a promotional tour for his Quidditch team. His room was found completely empty when Tom, owner of the pub, went up to deliver his breakfast and Daily Prophet. “All his belongings are gone, and he didn’t check out either,” says Tom. Ministry officials who inspected the scene say there was no sign of a struggle. “Why bother asking us that question?” grumbled one. “If he was kidnapped, the kidnapper would be able to cover their tracks anyway.” When questioned about his skill to uncover these tracks, he told the reporters to clear off or he’d show them his less positive skills._ ” Hermione turned back to where she was before.

Draco looked at Harry, who had frozen in putting their pancakes onto two plates to listen to the article. He glanced at Draco, and offered him a smile, to reassure him.

“Well… I had a dream that he told Voldemort that he didn’t want to follow him anymore. Maybe they want to punish him.”

“Maybe,” said Ginny. She put her hot chocolate down and took a bite of her toast.

“Honestly,” Ron said with his mouth full. “Who cares? Let him fry in his own potion.”

Harry bit his lip, looked like he wanted to say something in Oliver’s defense, but ended up just shrugging and giving Draco some breakfast.

Breakfast passed with little conversation. The topic that was talked about was what to do. They were staying in a huge mansion-of-a-house, but didn’t have a lot to do. Exploding Snap and Wizards’ Chess helped pass the time, but those activities soon became boring. There were many books to read, and homework to catch up on… but really, only Hermione could survive doing that for more than an hour.

It was Ron who started the ball rolling.

“I wish we could do something outside. It really sucks being cooped up in here like prisoners at Azkaban,” he said, sitting down on the sofa in the living room.

“I wish we could play Quidditch,” sighed Harry. He smiled and stared wistfully at the ceiling from where he was lying on the rug.

“Me too.” Draco rested his head in his arms.

“Wait,” Hermione said, her brow furrowed. “We can play Quidditch.”

“How could we possibly do that?” Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Even if we did venture outside and find a big enough area, we’d have to worry about muggles seeing us, and you do know what will happen if Draco is seen by someone from the wizarding world – and Harry, after that dramatic exit from the Leaky Cauldron.”

“But we don’t have to go outside,” said Hermione, as though explaining it to a child. “I’ll be right back, just let me talk to Remus.” She had left the room before she’d even finished speaking.

“Does she gain pleasure in doing that or something,” complained Ron. Harry shared a understanding look with him, albeit looking amused.

“Professor Lupin is here?” Draco asked, looking around.

“Yeah, he stays here occasionally, when he’s needed for the Order or he needs to be near London. Mum stays every night, she only helps the Order in the day,” Ginny answered. “They’re all so busy… that’s why we hardly ever see them.”

A couple of minutes later (that seemed to crawl by) Hermione returned with glowing cheeks.

“Follow me!”

Ron and Harry got up eagerly, with Draco and Ginny bringing up the rear. She led them down the corridor and turned left to descend a shadowy flight of stairs, cool, musty air touching their skins. At the end of the small staircase, Harry and Ron stopped so abruptly that Draco walked into his boyfriend. He peered over his shoulder, and Draco’s jaw dropped.

They were staring into what presumably used to be a room of some sort. Bright grass which was swaying slightly in a breeze spread out to make a vast field. Knotty trees twisted up into a mini forest, and when Draco looked past these towering heights, he saw a clam blue sky with a few clouds drifting. And, of course, there were Quidditch hoops standing at either end of the grass. Hermione turned to look at them with a proud smile.

“I asked Remus if we could transform a room into a suitable area to fly in. He did most of it,” she added modestly. She watched their reactions attentively.

“This is awesome, ‘Mione!” Harry strode onto the grass in awe.

“Bloody brilliant,” agreed Ron, a wide grin on his freckled face. Ginny shared a surprised and delighted look with Draco before walking delicately into the area.

“It’s perfect,” she smiled at Hermione. Hermione smiled also, and turned to Draco, who had shut his gaping mouth by now (after all, it wasn’t graceful).

Draco grinned at her and followed the others, sighing at the familiar feeling of grass underfoot.

“Great conditions for playing Quidditch,” Ron was chattering away. “There’s just enough breeze to help the Quaffle along, but not enough to hinder flying…”

Draco tuned Ron out and sat down. The last time he had been outside was at Diagon Alley, not that that counted much. So the _real_ last time would be… at Lupin’s house and the walk to Grimmauld Place.

“Hey, do you like it?” Harry sauntered over to Draco and slid him a look of faint concern. “You haven’t said anything.”

“It reminds me of the grounds outside the Manor,” Draco said. “I didn’t realize until now how much I miss it.” Harry offered Draco a smile and held out a hand. Draco took it and allowed Harry to pull him to his feet. His saddened mood was lifted by Harry squeezing his hand lightly, and walking back to Ron, Hermione and Ginny still holding his hand.

“So…” Ginny clapped her hands in anticipation. “Are we going to play?”

“I’m volunteering to be the referee,” Hermione said quickly.

“Ok,” chuckled Harry. “So, I don’t think we need to use Bludgers… they’re pretty useless.”

“Unless you count ‘being annoying’ a use,” quipped Draco. Harry shrugged playfully, and continued.

“And, well, we haven’t really got enough players to play with the Snitch… so how do you guys feel about two on two, with just the Quaffle?”

“Sure,” said Ginny.

“The teams have to be even,” Hermione said. “As in… talent, I mean.”

“I’ll go with Ron, if you like,” Harry offered, and Ron nodded, still grinning at the thought of flying.

“That leaves me and you darling,” Ginny batted her eyelashes at Draco, who rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Should I be jealous?” Harry laughed.

“Perhaps,” Draco said rather coyly. Ron cleared his throat, his face beginning to turn pink.

“I think we’re embarrassing him,” said Draco. He nudged Harry lightly and sent an apologetic grin to Ron. Surprisingly, Ron gave him a smile back.

“Stop it, you two,” Hermione snorted. “I’m going to get Remus to get us a Quaffle, and you all need to get your broomsticks.”

“I already have a broomstick to ride,” smirked Draco. Ginny smothered a laugh, and Ron’s eyes grew wide before he nervously cleared his throat again and near sprinted from the room. Hermione turned to Draco and Harry, looking scarily like Professor McGonagall.

“If you boys don’t go right now, you won’t be able to ride any sort of broomstick, or have any feeling in your genitals for a week!”

Draco fervently believed this threat, and with a sharp look at the giggling Ginny, he scooted.

Five minutes later, with their male parts still thankfully intact, Draco and Harry joined Ron and Ginny on the pitch, and mounted their brooms.

“Last pair to a hundred and fifty points gets to make the others lunch,” shouted Ron, before taking off. Hermione threw the newly formed Quaffle up in the air, and their game began.

It was awesome to feel the air whistling through his hair again, to go as fast as he dared, to feel the freedom that flying offered. Draco did a loop before concentrating on their mini game of Quidditch. Ron had just saved a shot that Ginny had sent towards their left hoop, and was about to pass it to Harry. Draco sped over to Harry, who looked surprised for a split second before grinning and ducking under him. He called out to Ron, but Draco flipped over and flew back to Harry, and intercepted the pass.

“You’ll have to be quicker than that Potter,” he grinned at Harry, who merely shrugged and smirked mischievously.

“You’re on, Malfoy!”

Quidditch kept the teenagers occupied all morning. Their game finally ended, with Draco and Ginny being victorious. It had been a close game, in which Hermione was needed twice to settle disputes. Draco was still convinced that Harry had distracted him with a kiss deliberately.

“At least I’ve had plenty of practice cooking at the Dursley’s,” Harry said, trudging next to Ron as they all walked back to the kitchen.

***** * ***   
**

Lunch proved that Harry actually was a good cook. The boys had decided to go back to the Quidditch room, the girls not being so keen. Harry was currently doing laps of the pitch, and that was when Ron approached Draco.

“Um… Can I talk to you, Malfoy?”

“Sure,” Draco said, concealing his slight shock.

“Well,” Ron started. “I just thought I need to… to apologize to you.”

“Oh?” He never dreamed to hear those words coming out of Ron’s mouth.

“When you first came here, I was, to put it frankly, a real bastard. I…” Ron was looking out at the field, but hey, Draco couldn’t expect eye contact as well as an apology. “Well, I didn’t trust you. I’m still not sure if I do completely. But anyway, I want to say sorry for not being as welcoming as I could have been. And for not really taking the news of you and… Harry that well.”

Draco hid a smile, and nodded for him to continue.

“But now I know. I know that whatever Harry sees in you –“ Draco now grinned openly. “– he likes it. And you make him happy, however crazy that sounds,” Ron admitted grudgingly.

“Hey, now that you’ve said it out loud it must be true,” Draco said, carefully standing just far enough away from Ron so he wouldn’t try to hit him. Ron simply rolled his eyes and actually smiled back.

“Yeah, well, yesterday he was pretty upset, ‘cause he’d done something to hurt you. Now you’re talking to each other again, he’s back to being happier than ever. I think that’s enough proof.” Ron looked out at the Quidditch pitch once more. Harry had just landed and had started walking leisurely over to the pair.

“Hey, um… thanks, you know, for saying that,” Draco said, before Harry could reach them. “It… it means a lot that you are ok with us.”

Ron shrugged, but Draco could tell by the small smile that he was happy to have received thanks from him.

“Hey guys, what are you doing? You’re wasting valuable playing time,” Harry joked, coming to stand beside them.

“I just remembered, I have this really difficult Transfiguration assignment to finish, and Hermione seemed in a happy mood… maybe I could score her help,” Ron grinned. “I leave you two to play, if you want.”

“Sure,” Harry shot Draco a puzzled look. Ron’s lips twitched as he tried not to laugh, and his eyes lingered on Draco before turning and leaving the room.

“What was that about?” Harry asked.

“Well, he told me that he was ok with us being together, and that he was sorry for being such a bastard to me while I’ve been here.”

“He did?” Harry bit his lip, not daring to give himself that hope. When Draco confirmed it with a nod, Harry beamed and threw his arms around the blonde.

“Seriously, that is… so, unbelievably great,” Harry said into Draco’s neck. “I mean, he was my first real friend – ever. I was afraid he’d never fully accept it, accept… you.”

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” Draco pried Harry from his neck and looked into his softened eyes.

“I know,” he replied quietly. “I have you.”

“Yes… but right now, maybe you should be afraid. I’m challenging you to a one-on-one game of Quidditch. It’s fairly simple. All we need is the Snitch. The first one to catch it wins. And I think it’s obvious who _will_ win!” Draco teased, flipping his hair in a superior way.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, me!”

“We shall see…” Draco grabbed his Nimbus, and the Snitch, and the game began.

Both boys spent not only their time looking for the Snitch, but admiring each other’s abilities. They didn’t feel pressured to concentrate as much as they would in a real game, so they had the freedom to watch.

Harry was fascinated with how Draco was so nimble and alert. Every move the Slytherin made looked calculated, but wasn’t cautious. He moved with great speed, as if he was part of the air moving.

Draco, on the other hand, liked how Harry flew with confidence. He knew what he was doing, and whenever he glanced over to Draco, it was as if he could have a quite accurate guess as to what Draco was going to do as well. He controlled his broom beautifully.

Over two hours later, the two boys landed and collapsed onto the welcoming, soft grass.

“I told you I’d win,” panted Harry, his eyes closed.

“No way, we were equal,” said Draco, out of breath too. “We won a game each.”

“True,” Harry conceded.

“That was a good way to kill an afternoon,” Draco smiled lazily at Harry. A seductive grin spread on Harry’s own face.

“I can think of another good way,” he purred. Harry rolled over and had Draco pinned to the ground in a few seconds.

“Ooh, you’re good,” Draco whispered, smirking right back at Harry.

“I’m more than good,” Harry’s lips barely touched Draco’s, and when they did, they sent a shiver up his spine. “As you’ll soon find out.”

A sudden and sharp kiss rendered Draco unable to think for a moment. It felt dizzily sweet, and a lower part of Draco’s anatomy jolted into life. Luckily for Draco, Harry moved on to unbutton his shirt. But this didn’t stop his growing arousal, because Harry lowered his groin to sit on Draco’s so that he could balance without holding himself up with his hands. Draco caught a glimpse of Harry’s desire filled eyes and had to shut his own; they were so powerful.

He was already breathless because of their Quidditch game, and Harry was making no effort to let Draco get any breath back. Harry was trailing his fingertips over his chest, getting lower and lower. He bent down and quickly licked his left nipple, the two only coming into contact for a split second.

“Harry,” Draco moaned. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t move… all he could do was feel.

“Look at me Draco,” Harry said, his voice just as husky. Draco slowly opened his eyes, and moaned again purely at the intense glitter in Harry’s emerald eyes. “You know when I said I love you… I meant it.”

“Me too,” Draco managed to get out, between the sparks shooting every time Harry moved their erections together (whether innocently or intentionally, Draco didn’t know).

“I’m sorry I never told you before,” breathed Harry, his fingers stilled by Draco’s waist.

“I meant to… tell you before,” Draco said, not daring to look away from Harry in case he stopped making Draco feel this way. “I always… chickened out. I didn’t know… if you’d feel… the same way.”

“Guess what,” Harry lightly pressed his lower half closer to Draco. Draco bit back a gasp. “I do.”

Now, Draco was well aware that although they had kissed and sucked each other off, they hadn’t actually had sex, as such. They just hadn’t felt the need to rush into that sort of level yet. They had been getting their emotional level sorted out first. But now, Draco’s resolve of not to rush was put sorely to the test.

Harry unexpectedly rolled his hips with wonderful force. Draco couldn’t hear his moan this time; it was impeccably mixed with Harry’s. He felt that if he didn’t get those damn annoying things called jeans off, he wouldn’t be able to live. He needed to be joined to Harry, to melt into him and be together as one forever. He forgot that he was lying on a makeshift Quidditch pitch, shirt open and in a house with other people who could walk in on them at any moment. He forgot that the ground beneath him could be muddy and be ruining his shirt.

All Draco could focus on was Harry.

“Oh Merlin, Harry.” He blinked slowly and looked at Harry’s still buttoned shirt. He really wanted to unbutton it… but wasn’t sure if he could even concentrate on such a simple task.

“I’ll get it,” Harry said in his ear and somehow managed to rip his shirt open. Draco gazed at the silky torso. It was like he was dreaming. This couldn’t be real.

Oh, but Harry made sure Draco knew it was real. He kissed him for a long time, tongue memorizing every inch of Draco’s mouth. Draco’s fingers finally came to life and swept across Harry’s abs, moving down the sides of his body to rest on Harry’s hips. He felt Harry shiver on top of him.

And then Draco heard a very, out of place sound. Running footsteps.

How Draco could have heard them over their heavy breathing or his own thumping heart, he had no idea. But they were quick and getting louder. Draco barely had time to open his mouth – to say what, he had no idea. All he knew was that this is about to go terribly wrong. He didn’t want this to end, not like this. He didn’t want those footsteps to come _any_ nearer.

“Harry!”

Harry froze; apparently, he hadn’t heard anything. His eyes grew wide and he stared at Draco, his jaw clenched in fear.

“Harry!” The voice was overflowing with urgency, and the footsteps burst into the room. This seemed to shake Harry awake. He threw himself from Draco, landing on his back beside him. Tentatively, Draco inched his head up so he could see who had interrupted them. He felt his face go red as he saw Ginny.

Draco never blushed. _Never_. And yet, he was beetroot red. As red as a tomato. As red as Gryffindor Quidditch robes. As red as… well, you get it, he was red. And Harry wasn’t much better.

However, Ginny didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest to have found Harry and Draco in a rather personal position.

The emotion that was clear on her face was blatant fright. Her face was pale under her freckles, and eyes huge and glassy. When she opened her mouth it trembled. Her voice matched it perfectly.

“Guys, you need to come. Now.”


	19. Poisonous Vines and the Devil’s Trident

_Chapter 19: Poisonous Vines and the Devil’s Trident_

*** * ***

Cold. All Harry could feel was cold. The grass was bitter underneath him, where he had flung himself away from Draco. The voice – Ginny’s voice – that had interrupted them had effectively dropped the temperature of the room. Without Draco, Harry was cold.

Ginny appeared in his vision, standing above him. Her forehead was wrinkled in a worried frown.

“Come on, come on, please,” she pleaded. Harry felt himself being pulled into a sitting position, being too dazed and totally lost to resist. Ginny moved on to rouse Draco.

“W-what’s wrong?” Harry stuttered, his brain finally starting to warm up and respond to Ginny’s scared form. How he could even talk when he was this close to ripping off Draco’s clothes, he had no idea. He pushed himself up to stand next to Draco, who had been hauled up by Ginny.

Ginny opened her mouth, and then averted her eyes. They glistened unmistakably with tears. Abruptly, she looked back to the boys and gripped Harry’s forearm tightly.

“There’s been a… a kidnapping. They… I – Dumbledore will explain it,” she said, shaking her head. She was worrying her lip incessantly, helplessly. A moment passed, fear and confusion beginning to crawl up Harry’s throat.

“Come on,” Ginny repeated, and turned on her heel. Harry only glanced at Draco for a split second before running after her. Up the stairs they tripped, trying not to land on their faces. Harry caught a flash of Draco attempting to button up his shirt as he sprinted beside him. Attempting being the operative word. His lungs were shredding in need of air, but he couldn’t stop yet.

Ginny began to slow in front of them. The two boys piled into the room after her, and stopped short at the sight of the people with them.

They had arrived in the kitchen, and it was quite crowded. Ron and Hermione stood nervously next to the sink, Ron a shade of white and Hermione’s eyes bright and darting around. Ginny leaned gratefully against the bench next to them, chest heaving and eyes closing tiredly. Tonks stood to the left, hovering slightly with a little black bob of hair. A man Harry didn’t recognize was beside her, not doing a good job at hiding his shock of seeing Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy together, in the same house. And (Harry nearly smiled at the thought) he supposed the fact that they were looking incredibly flushed and thoroughly snogged with unbuttoned shirts didn’t help the man’s shock either.

Right in front of them was Dumbledore himself, in his magnificent deep purple robes. He surveyed them over his half moon glasses, his eyes twinkling in amusement for a second before he addressed them.

“Harry, Mr Malfoy,” he nodded. Despite his slight terror, Harry blushed, and buttoned up his shirt as quickly as he could. He avoided eye contact with Ron and Tonks, especially Ron. Draco had followed suit.

“Sir… what’s going on?” Harry panted, pleased that his voice was determined.

“I’m sorry to see you again on such conditions, but…” the old man sighed. “There has been a kidnapping.”

“Ginny told us that,” Harry interrupted. He loathed Dumbledore’s hobby of taking a long time to explain things. Not caring about the others in the room, Draco slipped his hand into Harry’s to soothe his temper.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said as evenly as ever. “I guessed that she would have told you a similar statement. Members of the Order have been taken while doing a job. Guarding your Aunt and Uncle, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “Those members – there were two of them – called for reinforcements. Nymphdora,” (Tonks shuddered distastefully) “Kingsley and Zeke responded to their call for help.” Harry looked at the other man, who he guessed must be Zeke.

“But… Kingsley’s not here,” Harry said, turning back to Dumbledore. The Headmaster bowed his head gravely.

“He was taken along with the other two. We fear –“

“Who else was taken?” Harry asked, almost not wanting an answer. He tightened his hold on Draco’s hand.

“We fear that the Death Eaters have taken them, along with your relatives,” Dumbledore continued as if he had not heard Harry. “Well –“

“Sir, who were the two members guarding my Aunt and Uncle?” said Harry, trying to keep his voice steady, but failing to stop it getting louder.

“Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley,” Dumbledore’s voice was quiet. Harry clenched his free fist painfully and looked away from Dumbledore. Ginny was now curled up, arms hugging herself tightly. She seemed to be shivering. Hermione moved closer to Ron who turned his ashen face to the floor.

“Why?” Harry whispered, his teeth gritted as he faced Dumbledore once more.

“I expect Voldemort wanted to try and get your relatives again, after failing the first time. My theory is that he thought he could find out how they made you safe every summer holidays, and try to break into that to try and defeat you. He, however, will never find out how; he looks too deeply into complicated magic for such simple matters. Remus, Arthur and Kingsley were no match for the large group Voldemort sent there.”

“Where are they now?” said Harry. His fingernails were digging into his palm. “They’re not – are they –“

“Nymphdora and Zeke say the Death Eaters only stunned them. No doubt they have plans to… question them.” Harry suddenly found the tiled floor quite interesting. He knew what that meant. Torture.

“And there’s something else you should know, Harry,” Dumbledore’s grave voice ripped Harry’s mind from the horror of the Cruciatus Curse. He paused until Harry lifted his chin almost defiantly to look at him.

“Voldemort’s followers killed your Uncle.”

Harry knew he should feel something – anything – at the thought of his Uncle being killed… but he didn’t. Draco’s fingers were massaging his palm anxiously, but Harry barely noticed it. His eyes wandered across the wall behind Dumbledore idly, feeling distant from the others. However, he couldn’t feel any remorse for his Uncle’s death. This sounded horrible… but Uncle Vernon deserved it.

“Well, where are the others? We have to go and get them,” Harry’s gaze snapped back up to challenge Dumbledore. “We can’t just leave them there!” Dumbledore didn’t answer right away, as if trying to figure out why Harry wasn’t sad. Honestly, the old man could be so naïve sometimes.

“I believe they took them, including your relatives, back to where they are currently operating from,” Dumbledore flashed a quick look at Draco. “Malfoy Manor.”

Harry felt Draco tense at the mention of his home. Without needing to look at him, Harry squeezed his hand reassuringly. The squeeze was soon returned.

“You’ll be pleased to note, Harry, that we will be leaving to get them as soon as everyone is ready. And… Mr Malfoy…” Dumbledore paused, turning his piercing eyes onto Draco.

“You want me to lead you there,” Draco said, without expression.

“Exactly,” said Dumbledore with an appreciative nod.

Harry heard a light hiss, and saw Zeke frowning at Draco, eyes narrowed. A hot flare of anger jumped up into Harry’s chest, and he made a furious move towards the man.

“What, you think Draco will lead us into a trap? You think he’s spying on us for Voldemort!” Members of the room looked uncomfortable at Harry saying his name so loudly. Zeke’s eyes were wide now, and he took a quick step back.

“Well… the boy’s history…” he mumbled only just loud enough for everyone to hear. Growling softly in his throat, the raven haired sent him a glare of daggers. His hand was nearly to his wand when Draco’s finger’s closed around his wrist.

“Could we please have a moment?” Harry heard Draco ask politely. As Harry was busy glaring at Zeke, he simply assumed Dumbledore was nodding because Draco firmly pulled him out into the hallway.

“Harry, calm down,” said Draco, as soon as he had shut the door behind him.

“The nerve of that guy!” exploded Harry. He attempted to shake Draco off him but he held on securely.

“It’s alright,” Draco soothed. “I… I want to help the Order. I would love to be responsible for them finding and maybe getting rid of a couple of the Death Eaters.”

“That guy – _Zeke_ ,” Harry spoke in a scathing voice. “How could he do that when he can plainly see that you are trusted?! I trust you, Dumbledore trusts you, why can’t that be enough for him –“

“Harry, it’s okay,” Draco said. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “I know there will always be those who are suspicious of me. You can’t help that.”

Harry looked into Draco’s slightly saddened but decided eyes, and conceded.

“Fine,” he sighed. “But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to murder him on the spot.”

“Harry, please at least try to keep your temper,” Draco said with an amused smile.

“I won’t make any promises,” replied Harry with a reluctant grin.

“Harry?” started Draco quietly after a moment. Harry cocked an eyebrow in question. “Are you ok, about… your Uncle getting killed?”

“I know it sounds really terrible of me… but, I’m not sad or anything. I… I don’t care that he’s dead. Is there… is there something wrong with me for thinking that?” Harry suddenly looked into Draco’s eyes, desperate for an answer.

“There is _nothing_ wrong with that,” Draco used his free hand to brush Harry’s hair from his face, almost unconsciously. “From what I’ve heard about your Uncle he doesn’t deserve your sympathy.” His cool finger traced Harry’s scar.

Harry sighed in relief. It was true, he did trust Draco… and so he trusted that Draco would tell him if he was a monster for thinking such a selfish thing. Maybe it was just what war did to you.

They stood there for a moment. Harry supposed they would have to go back inside soon, but before he could voice that, Draco tugged Harry closer to him.

“I’m sorry that it had to end like that… before, I mean,” Draco’s voice ghosted over Harry’s lips.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Harry smiled. “For the record, I’m sorry too.”

Harry leaned forwards an inch and kissed Draco, deepening the kiss by curling his arm around the blonde’s waist. Draco finally let go of Harry’s wrist and caressed Harry’s jaw-line.

“Now,” Harry said softly when they broke apart. “We better go and tackle our latest mission.”

***** * ***   
**

Draco met Dumbledore’s eyes evenly when he and Harry returned, their hands once again entwined.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said calmly, although the way his jaw was set told Draco he didn’t mean it.

“Quite alright, Harry,” Dumbledore inclined his head. “Now, our next move has to be getting to Malfoy Manor, right away. If we delay any longer, things could become difficult.” Draco firmly held Harry’s hand, knowing that the boy’s temper was close to boiling.

“So what do I have to do?” Draco took over the speaking.

“We need to set up a portkey, as near as we can get to the Manor. I assume you would have had enchantments in place to prevent direct apparating and portkeying there?”

Draco nodded; although he had used a portkey to leave the place, it was impossible to portkey into the Manor.

“The barriers end close to a river that runs through the mountains. I think it’s called the _Peruvian river_. Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Dumbledore confirmed. “You will be able to lead us to the Manor from there?”

“Yes, it’s about a fifteen minute walk. We can go through an underground entrance that leads into the Entrance Hall.” Draco suppressed a shiver when he mentioned the Entrance Hall. Now that was the one place in his house – well, it wasn’t his house anymore – but it was the one place that he was dreading going back to the most.

“Excellent,” Dumbledore said, as if he were praising Draco for a piece of school work. “I shall call some reinforcements, and set up our portkey, and then we can leave. We have precious time to lose.”

Draco refrained from rolling his eyes; honestly, that old man was quite corny sometimes. He gave his head a little shake. Dumbledore was now moving over to the fireplace, presumably to ‘call reinforcements’.

“Come on,” Harry murmured, and nudged Draco to walk over to Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Ginny opened her eyes and watched Harry and Draco approach, although Draco didn’t think she was really seeing them.

“Hey,” Harry said softly, giving them all an encouraging smile. Close up, Ron was the colour of parchment, and his grin seemed painful.

Shuffling nearer, Draco let go of Harry’s hand and placed his arms around Ginny’s lean shoulders. Ginny gratefully embraced Draco, but detangled herself from him fairly soon.

“I’m ok,” she said quietly but firmly. Draco smiled at her, mirroring Harry’s support.

“Don’t worry you guys, we can get them back,” said Draco, sounding more confident than he felt. However, Ron and Ginny seemed to appreciate it.

Hermione began to talk about different spells and charms that she though might come in handy, but Draco tuned her out. Ginny also wasn’t listening, and lent closer to Draco to whisper in his ear.

“Sorry for… interrupting you two,” she said with a brief smile, which was an achievement.

“Yeah, you owe us,” Draco chuckled.

“I definitely do. I hope you’ll be able to… _create_ the mood again,” Ginny let out a small giggle. Draco blushed ever-so-lightly. Ron’s head snapped around, probably wondering how on earth his sister could be laughing at a time like this. Ginny’s smile faded.

“Don’t worry so much,” said Draco as Ron turned back to Harry, who looked like he was doing the same thing with Ron as Draco was doing with Ginny. Hermione had finished her rant of useful spells and simply looked thoughtful.

“What if we _can’t_ get them back? I wouldn’t be able to bear it.” Ginny blinked, her eyelashes casting shadows onto her pale cheeks.

“We’ll do our best,” Draco assured her.

And indeed, Draco would _have_ to be in top form to even have a chance in surviving his return to Malfoy Manor. He knew that Voldemort would be there – and worse than that, his father. He ground his teeth together to stop a growl escaping. Merlin help him when he saw that miserable excuse of a pureblood again.

Mere minutes later, the five teenagers, Dumbledore, Tonks, that Zeke guy, and about a dozen other efficient looking members of the Order had all taken hold of the Portkey and landed beside the river that Draco had described. It was just as Draco remembered it; he had often walked around here, alone, when he couldn’t stand being at the Manor.

Dumbledore had asked Draco to lead the way, so he and Harry were now walking in front of the group, Draco following the familiar path through a twisting forest to his house. Ginny, Ron and Hermione (who had point blank turned down the headmaster’s suggestion to stay at Headquarters) were close behind them. Draco found an unusual comfort in that.

No one talked much while they walked. There was simply nothing to be said. A few Order members, one being Mad-eye Moody, murmured together about tactics, but they soon fell quiet as the harsh forestland began to thin out. Draco held his breath… and there it was.

A great, towering castle-like building was looming over the group, casting cold shadows over them all. Tall turrets curved up towards the heavens, with jagged spikes at the top. They reminded Draco of the devil’s trident. Draco’s eyes followed the poisonous vine that had grown a lot more than when Draco had last seen it. It had spread out all over the stone walls.

“The hidden entrance is around the side of the house,” Draco said, breaking the brutal silence that had previously reigned. “This way.”

Draco’s hand felt sweaty entwined in Harry’s. He nervously bit his lip, trying to believe that he wasn’t betraying his family, his family name, his beliefs. Well, technically, his old beliefs. He didn’t wish to bow down to a lunatic any longer.

He looked up at the grey mountains surrounding the Malfoy’s land. He once again willed himself to believe he wasn’t leading them all to their deaths. To his death. To Harry’s death. Draco shivered. Harry seemed to have felt it, because he rubbed Draco’s knuckles gently with his thumb.

They reached a small garden – if you could call it a garden, with its dark red roses that looked hugely wild. It lined part of the stone walls of the Manor. Draco let go of Harry’s hand, and stepped through the rose bushes, avoiding the ominous thorns. When he reached the wall, he looked for a stone that had a small engraving on it. He soon spotted it; it said ‘ _Fabula of malum, fablua of traditio, fibula of an prestans dominion._ ’ It was in Latin, although Draco wasn’t sure what it said.

Turning, Draco saw that everyone had followed him, and were now standing there expectantly, albeit quite squished. He met Harry’s eyes for a moment before looking back at the wall. Draco placed his hands on that stone and gave it a hard shove. A creaking noise sounded, and then the scraping of many stone rubbing up against each other, and slowly, the stones around the engraved one merged together to form an archway.

“This is it. The entrance. I’ll lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the Latin saying ‘Fabula of malum, fablua of traditio, fibula of an prestans dominion’ means ‘Tales of evil, tales of betrayal, tales of imminent domination’. According to Google. So, for all I know, it actually means something wildy different. I apologise to any Latin-savvy people who I may have offended!


	20. Robotic Times

_Chapter 20: Robotic Times_

*** * ***

Harry was hit with the icy shock of air straight away, blowing down the tunnel with force. Instinctively, he sought out Draco’s eyes. The blonde looked determined to be brave, and somehow, Harry found assurance in this. Maybe Draco would be okay.

It was Dumbledore who broke the silence.

“If you would be so kind, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco nodded, his gaze flicking to Harry, and took the first step into the tunnel. Harry swiftly followed him.

There was a musty scent drifting down the tunnel, and a distant dripping which sounded like water slapping against stone. Their footsteps and breathing echoed noisily, being flung off the walls. Harry looked briefly over his shoulder and saw the outlines of Ron, Hermione and Ginny behind him. Murmurs of “Lumos” could be heard, and Harry followed suit. He turned back to face Draco, and clutching his hand, they began the journey up the tunnel.

At first, the tunnel seemed to slope downwards, which meant that they surely must be underneath the ground. It was also quite narrow, but Harry refused to let go of Draco, so they squeezed in beside each other. The group was completely silent in this trek; other than their loud footsteps, of course.

Harry knew they were nearing the end of the tunnel when two things happened: the tunnel began to go uphill dramatically and Draco drew a sharp breath. He glanced over at the blonde, but he simply looked on ahead. However, Harry thought that the entrance was still a little further on, and when Draco stopped suddenly, he nearly tripped over his own feet. Ron trod on his heels.

Draco turned to Harry, looking like he was going to say something to them all, but he couldn’t find the words. Blinking slowly, he got out his wand and tapped at the stone wall in front of him.

“We’re at the entrance,” Harry called out softly, and a surge of energy zapped through them. Everyone stood up a little straighter; Ron rolled up his sleeves. With a grinding crunch, the stone began to move until it formed a short staircase. Harry looked up at the roof of the tunnel, and noticed something he hadn’t seen yet, a clean wooden door.

Draco stood there, as though his legs were made of stone like the staircase. Just as he made a move to climb the stairs, Harry heard someone clear their throat.

“Dumbledore, I can live with the fact that the boy led us to the Manor, but I will not let him check if the coast is clear. That is simply asking too much of my trust.”

Harry gritted his teeth at Zeke’s words and was about to spin around – but a cool hand brushed his forearm, and he met Draco’s eyes.

“Don’t. Truth be told, I don’t fancy going up there first anyway.” Draco’s lips barely moved, and Harry had to lean in to hear him properly. He studied the blonde for a moment, and then rolled his eyes.

“Ok… but I don’t like what that scum is saying… stupid idiot…”

At this, a small smile graced Draco’s face, most likely at Harry’s grumbling. The pair stood back to let Dumbledore and the other Order members pass.

“To get to the dungeons, you go up the marble staircase and take the right passageway… it veers downwards, and then you come across a portrait of Salazar Slytherin. That’s the entrance,” Draco quickly explained to Dumbledore. The older man nodded, and one by one the Order went through the wooden door. Hermione, Ron and Ginny followed.

Draco glanced at Harry as though he wanted to say something, but he didn’t have to. Harry could read his slightly shaking form easily. He briefly touched Draco’s jaw-line, but then gave him an encouraging nudge up the stairs.

Even through his alert mind-set, Harry couldn’t help but admire how fancy and polished the Malfoy Entrance hall was. It was splashed with red light from the sunset. It was rather… beautifully eerie. Somehow. As though reminding them that blood had been spilt in that same room.

Harry walked up to where Draco was standing still, in the middle of the Entrance hall.

“Draco,” he shook him softly, and Draco blinked before looking at him. His lips were thin and his eyes narrowed.

“It’s ok,” Draco whispered, his eyes flashing now. Although the anger was definitely not directed at Harry. “He’ll get what he deserves.”

“Draco, don’t do anything stupid, please?” Harry was almost shocked to hear himself pleading, but it reflected his need perfectly. Draco shrugged and gave Harry a smile to reassure him.

“Come on, we don’t want to get behind.” Draco pulled Harry over to a vast marble staircase, and they climbed it after Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

“Nice place,” Ginny said to Draco, flashing him an amused look over her shoulder.

“It has its merits,” grinned Draco. Harry shook his head in mild exasperation. Honestly, how could they be talking about such a small subject… but he supposed it was their way of coping.

“Where abouts is that portrait?” murmured Ron, squinting down the corridor when they had reached the top of the staircase.

“It’s further down, not too far though,” Draco answered. They followed the Order, barely seeing their wand lights at some times. Within the shadows Harry could see unlit torches lining the stone walls.

After only a few minutes, the five teenagers joined up with the Order members, who had all stopped around the portrait of the infamous Salazar Slytherin. He was smirking importantly, and thoroughly reminding Harry of Snape – what with the greasy black hair.

“Ok Harry, all of you, listen,” Dumbledore addressed the teenagers quietly. “There is no need for you to do anything. You don’t need to endanger yourselves. However…” Dumbledore turned his blue eyes to Harry, who knew he must look entirely unconvinced. “I know you will want to help. I can not stop you. I just ask you to please, don’t jump in looking for a fight and get yourselves hurt. Do I have your words?”

Harry looked around at his friends; they were all nodding, albeit reluctantly. He looked back at Dumbledore and sighed before nodding also.

“Good. Now, everyone, once we find Remus and Arthur, we will make our way back to Grimmauld Place as quickly as we possibly can. I assume we can apparate out of the Manor?” Draco nodded. “Good, so we can apparate back to the square outside of Grimmauld Place. Now, Mr Malfoy, if you will.”

Draco swallowed and stepped forwards to the portrait. His face was pale in his wand light. Reaching out, Draco placed his hand on Salazar’s heart and closed his eyes. There was a cold clunk of metal, and the portrait slowly opened into darkness.

Draco melted back next to Harry and grasped his hand tightly. Harry welcomed the touch. They stood still as the Order members swept into the dungeons of the Manor, as their footsteps echoed in the air, as they disappeared.

“Where are… the Death Eaters?” Ron whispered after an awkward pause.

“They’ll…” Draco chewed a tiny corner of his lips. “They’ll probably be here. In the dungeons. Whenever they found someone… of importance they often… questioned them here.”

Ron turned away, taking deep breaths. His fists clenched. Hermione touched the small of his back and began to steer him through the doorway the portrait had made. However, Ron stopped and looked back at Draco.

“I’m not angry at you,” he said, looking at his feet. “I’m… angry at them. Not you.”

Draco nodded silently and watched them enter. Ginny followed, looking like she was focusing on the only thing that mattered – getting Mr Weasley and Lupin back.

“Remember, don’t do anything stupid,” Harry said softly as a last warning to Draco, both of them moving to the doorway.

“Likewise to you,” Draco muttered with a light snort of laughter. They shared one, final look – a final smile – before plunging into the dungeons.

***** * ***   
**

It was like being a robot, really, Harry reckoned. Dodge a curse, send one back, duck and then run after them. Occasionally it was mixed up when he had to stop himself running into someone else, or if his opponent finally went down. Quickly glance over to reassure himself that Draco was still okay, still close.

They had met the Death Eaters about a minute into the maze of cells, metal bars and chains. Some of the cells contained things Harry didn’t rather want to see… like bones looking suspiciously human, for instance. They hadn’t yet found Mr Weasley or Lupin, but Harry was confident they would.

Harry darted behind a concrete pole and surveyed the area around him. Yup, Draco was still there, currently firing hexes at a snarling Death Eater. He could see Ginny in a fierce duel with someone with long black hair – Bellatrix, Harry realized with a jolt. Forcing down the strong flicker of fury, Harry turned away and looked for another person to take on.

And he saw a Death Eater stumbling towards him. Harry yelled,

“ _Impedimenta_!”

He fell backwards over one of his fallen comrades, and Harry had a sudden idea. Ducking a stray orange light, he dived over to the Death Eater and thrust his wand into the man’s neck.

“Tell me,” he shouted into his ear – the crashes around them was quite loud – “Where are the prisoners?”

The man spluttered and coughed, but raised a fist and tried to push Harry off. He threw an arm against the Death Eater’s chest.

“Where? Tell me!” Harry shoved his wand into his chin. The man groaned in pain and gasped something. “Hurry up,” Harry warned.

“Down there,” the Death Eater wheezed, still struggling. “Down the end of the dungeons.”

Harry stunned the Death Eater and leapt off him. He caught sight of Hermione sending a spell towards someone and jumping over a body on the ground.

“Hermione!” Harry called out to her, and beckoned to her to find a way over to him. She nodded and skillfully immobilized her opponent before stepping over to him.

“What?”

“Professor Lupin and Mr Weasley are near the end of the dungeons. Come with me,” said Harry, quickly stunning someone who was creeping up on them.

“How do you know?” she asked. They ducked a red spark directed at them, and Harry pulled her over a bit.

“A Death Eater told me.” Hermione paused, looking doubtful, but nodded to tell him that she’d come. Together they dodged the dueling Order members and others to make their way down the hallway.

They turned left, then right, managing to put some distance between themselves and the fight. They were still alert in case of a surprise attack though.

“Professor Lupin?” Harry said quietly, shining his wand light into the cells they passed. “Mr Weasley?” There was no sound apart from their shoes squishing into various puddles of slime.

“Do you think the Death Eater was telling the truth?” Hermione asked. She raised her wand above her head and winced when she saw a rat skeleton to her left.

“Well, I dunno, but it makes sense, to keep prisoners away from the entrance.”

“I suppose – “ Hermione began to say, but cut herself off.

“What?” Harry whispered as she stood still, listening…

“I heard a cough. Further down.” Hermione set off carefully, Harry walking quickly beside her.

“Are you sure? It could be them –“ but Hermione shushed him and stared into the darkness.

“Maybe…” she murmured to herself. She strode around in a circle, and then lifted her wand. “ _Specialis Revelio_.”

There was a rush of metal and suddenly a chain fell from the roof in front of her. After a short glance at Harry, Hermione reached up and pulled it.

At once a high pitched creak sounded from their left. Harry spun around and held his wand light out to see. It didn’t help him, however, as the dungeons were so dark in the first place.

“Who’s there?” Harry said clearly. A rustle, a scrabbling noise, and then someone spoke.

“Harry?” The voice was hoarse and seemed to be the source of the earlier cough.

“Professor Lupin? Is that you?” Harry turned to Hermione urgently. “We can’t see anything! Do you know a spell that gives us more light?”

Hermione thought for a moment, then closed her eyes and murmured an incantation – and the area around them lit up with a huge fiery force. Now they could see, although Harry almost wished they couldn’t.

Professor Lupin was half sitting up against a metal pole. He had a cut above his eyebrow that was dribbling blood down his face, and his face the colour of faded parchment. Mr Weasley was lying next to him on his side, one foot twisted under the other weirdly.

“Professor! Mr Weasley! Are you alright? How… how can we get you out?”

“We don’t have our wands…” uttered Mr Weasley from the ground. His eyes were closed, but he seemed to know that they were in good company.

“Don’t worry,” Hermione said, and moved up to the bars locking the pair in the cell. There was a huge padlock keeping the door shut, and large puzzle of chains wrapped around the lock. “ _Diffindo!_ ”

The chains began to turn to dust and fell onto the concrete in front of her. “ _Alohomora!_ ”

Another creak cut through the air and the door to the cell swung open. Harry ran forwards and struggled to help Lupin to sit properly.

“Do you think you guys have broken any bones?” Hermione asked, anxiously looking at Mr Weasley and not wanting to move him.

“Arthur maybe, I think I’m fine though,” Lupin said, mopping his brow with a grimy hand.

“Listen, you go for help. I’ll stay here in case any Death Eaters come,” Harry said to Hermione. She nodded and strode off, the way they had arrived.

Harry got to his feet and positioned himself outside the cell, his eyes and ears straining for anything not meant to be there.

“What did they do to you?” asked Harry softly to the cell, not turning around. Lupin coughed again before answering.

“Nothing surprising. They just… questioned us as to why we were there in the first place… and then of course, about the Order and you… and when we didn’t give them answers, like they wanted, they got a bit… violent.”

“And… do you know where my Aunt and cousin are?”

“They were let go after a while… once the Death Eaters figured out that they had no useful information about you. I would think that they are making their way home from here.”

Harry nodded; it was enough to know they were safe. Hopefully, this brush with death could teach them something… turn them into better people… ah well, you can dream, can’t you?

They waited quietly for five minutes before the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the dungeons.

Hermione and – to Harry’s disgust – Zeke came scurrying into the fiery light. Zeke went into the cell and began checking them for injuries.

“Sorry, he was the only one free,” Hermione muttered to Harry apologetically. “And apparently he’s good at healing.” Zeke came out and looked at Harry and Hermione, looking impatient.

“Weasley’s sporting a twisted ankle and bad bleeding, and Lupin seems to be fine, other than a couple of cracked ribs and bruising. I shall need one of you to help me apparate them back to Grimmauld Place where I can get a better look at them.”

“You better go,” Harry said to Hermione. “I’m not allowed to legally apparate. And you’d be more helpful at healing than me anyway.” Hermione gave him a tiny smile; she knew that he firstly didn’t want to be separated from Draco, and secondly didn’t want to be stuck with that git.

“Sure,” Hermione agreed. She and Zeke went into the cell and took hold of one of the men each.

“Be careful Harry,” she called out. “Don’t get lost on your way back.”

“I won’t,” assured Harry, and stood back as they disappeared into thin air.

Harry had gotten used to the company in the dungeons, what with the huge fight and then Hermione by his side. But now there was no one but him. It was a little unnerving, that he could be ambushed without any people to help him. Especially so when he didn’t know his way around the pitch-black dungeons. He gripped his wand a little tighter, raised it a little higher, and set off back to the fight.

However, it was proving much more difficult it than it had been to find Lupin and Mr Weasley. After about ten minutes, Harry was convinced that he had gone in a circle at least two times, and was starting to get tired of standing on the same rat skeleton.

“Bloody hell!” he swore aloud when he tripped over a familiar, rotting metal bar on the ground. His voice bounced off the concrete walls. What he didn’t expect though, was an answer.

“Who’s there?” This voice was even more croaky than Lupin’s had been. It was parched, like it had run out of energy. Harry turned on his heel and searched for whoever it was who had spoken. There was a rustle of cloth and a slight scrape against metal to Harry’s right, so he began stepping that way, wand at the ready.

His wand light crept along the ground, lighting up a metal chain, a metal cell… and then a slimy, stretched out hand… and Harry blanched when he saw who the hand belonged to.

“O-Oliver Wood,” he stammered, his heart pounding louder than it had been when he had first heard his voice.

“Harry…” Oliver smiled faintly, his eyes drifting closed. Harry stared at Oliver, too shocked to do anything else. He was lying on the ground, looking utterly wasted. A thin cloth was wrapped around his waist, but it didn’t hide his highly abused body. But Oliver didn’t look like he was feeling the pain… maybe he was too out of it to notice.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, a sudden jab of fear injecting itself into his voice. Luckily, Oliver didn’t seem to notice.

“The Death Eaters captured me…” Oliver giggled feebly. “They came and found me… and then they tortured me… that hurt… they’re gonna kill me today… I wonder what’s taking them so long…”

“Um… I think they got held up,” Harry thought of the Order’s attack. Harry’s legs began to get their feeling back, and he made to take a step backwards – but suddenly Oliver was sitting up and eyes open wide, and he grabbed wildly through the bars of his cell, holding a fistful of Harry’s pants.

“You have to help me!” he slurred, the whites of his eyes glowing creepily in Harry’s wand light. “You have to let me out!”

Harry stood still. He considered the young man in front of him. Oliver Wood had tried to rape him. But here he was, a broken body pleading with him, awaiting his death.

He could just leave him here. Harry could simply turn and walk away from the person who had nearly ruined the best thing that had happened in his life, his relationship with Draco. He could.

Then why was he still standing here?

Harry knew why. He was feeling the same thing that he had this morning, when Hermione had read the article in _the Prophet_ about Oliver’s disappearance. He had wanted to help Oliver, and as crazy as it sounded, he still did want to help him. Even though he had almost raped him.

Before he lost the nerve, Harry reached out to the metal door locking Oliver in his cell. He slowly turned the bolt and unwound the chain. The door to the cell moved, and Oliver let go of Harry to allow him to pull it fully open.

Oliver leaned on the bars to help himself stand up, and he turned to look at Harry. He seemed much more lucid now that he had the hope of living.

“You… you actually did it. You helped me. Even though I hurt you.”

Harry nodded and swallowed, feeling tears prick his eyes, although he didn’t know why.

Focusing his glassy vision, Oliver managed to stumble over to Harry, and stopped in front of him. He lifted his hand, and brushed rough fingers on Harry’s cheeks. Harry closed his eyes and surprisingly, a calming wave fell onto his shoulders.

“Thank you,” Oliver said, and Harry looked at him again. Oliver smiled and moved backwards. “You’re a good man. Now I can escape… I’ll find the secret window that I can get out of.”

He stood and watched Oliver retreat into the darkness, walking out of his life forever, before he remembered.

“Oliver! Which way is the Entrance hall from here?” Oliver turned and replied,

“That way,” he pointed behind Harry. “Just keep going that way, don’t turn, and you’ll find the portrait.” He hesitated, then called out, “Good luck.”

“You too,” said Harry quietly. And with Draco firmly in his mind, Harry finally set off in the right direction, feeling an unexplainable amount of contentment, like he’d solved something once and for all.


	21. Green Marble

_Chapter 21: Green Marble_

*** * ***

Draco had never before been grateful to his Aunt Bellatrix for _anything_ , but while dueling fiercely in the dungeons of the Manor, he took that back. Bellatrix had spent the whole summer holidays before his 6th year teaching him how to duel “properly” so that he could attack and defend. Amongst her meetings with Voldemort, of course. At the time Draco had hated his father for giving Bella this task, making him give up his break, but now… he was seeing its usefulness.

He ducked another curse and fired one back at his opponent, who was snarling quite unattractively. For a moment, the Death Eater nearly fell, and Draco used the time to glance over the area, to spot Harry. There he was, diving onto another Death Eater. Why on earth would he be doing that? Draco quickly focused his attention back on his opponent, who had righted himself and now audibly growling.

Leaping over a dazed Ron (who was sitting on the ground after a forceful shove), Draco sent a stunner to his snarling friend. He cheered inwardly when the Death Eater kneeled over in a faint next to Ron.

“Nice one,” Ron gave him a grin as he shook his head to clear it and got to his feet. Draco nodded and slipped out of the main fray. He strained to see over the many bodies flinging around, strained to see Harry…

But he was gone. It was as if he had dissolved in a vat of Vanishing Potion. Draco slowly felt the rising flame of panic, the gripping sensation that made it difficult to breathe. Someone hurtled into him, and he was jerked out of his thoughts and back into the fight.

Draco aimed a hex at the Death Eater that had fallen into him. He missed though, and ran around a concrete pole to dodge the return spell.

“Good luck Draco,” Ginny called out to him from his left. “I was just fighting her. She’s really quick!”

He looked back at the Death Eater, and noticed that she was indeed female, due to her long black hair spinning wildly as she moved.

Hang on.

That hair was awfully familiar.

The way it spun… it was almost like his mother’s when she had died…

Oh. It was his Aunt Bellatrix.

“Someone’s taught you well, haven’t they Draco,” Bellatrix said. Draco could imagine her face twisting into a malicious smile, and he doubled his efforts to defeat her. She simply laughed, a high and harsh sound, and directed a curse at him.

“How’s life in the light going for you? Have they got sick of you yet?”

Draco rolled his eyes, having been expecting her to start goading him.

“You know they’ll never really trust you.” Bellatrix skillfully dodged a hex from Draco and laughed again. “Why bother fighting for them if they are simply using you?”

“They’re _not_ using me!” Draco said loudly over the din, his fury getting the better of him. He tried to stun Bellatrix, but she easily ducked.

“What about _Harry_?” said Bellatrix snidely, a glimmer of triumph in her tone. Draco’s heart turned as hard as the concrete floor and he froze for a second, before he was forced to crouch to avoid an Unforgivable curse. He said nothing.

“I don’t think sleeping with the enemy will help you much.”

Draco clenched his fists, grasping his wand so tightly he was amazed that it didn’t turn to dust.

“Shut up.” His voice was bitter, and should have shocked her – but Bellatrix just laughed again, an evil edge to it.

“It’s amusing, to see you getting so _upset_ about it. If your mother knew…” Bellatrix added, jumping over a writhing body on the ground.

“She’d be proud that I didn’t turn out like my father!” Draco shouted at her, angry sparks shooting from his wand. He fired a Leg-Locking jinx. “She understood me! She didn’t want me to be heartless like you!”

“Believe whatever makes you feel better,” Bellatrix cackled shrilly. “Just don’t come running to me, crying, when the Boy Who Fucked You has no more use for you – “

But Bellatrix had spent too much time taunting, and not enough time staying alert. Right then, with a well placed stunning spell, Draco silenced his aunt and watched her fall straight to the floor.

Oh yes, he was grateful to his Aunt Bellatrix – for teaching him to take advantage of other’s weaknesses. Her weakness was not being able to resist taunting people.

Was she right though? Were they using Draco, for things like this? So that they could invade the Death Eater headquarters? Was… Harry using him?

Ginny came flying out of nowhere and pulled him down with her, as a curse whistled past his hair.

“Come on Draco, don’t daydream! You can see Harry when this is all over,” Ginny said with a ghost of a smirk, her hair splashed over her face. Draco nodded, and leapt up to hide in the shadows.

He was being utterly stupid. He and Harry had just solved their issues, they were great. Draco nearly snorted in amusement and disgust. Merlin, he was an insecure prat. Draco shook his head, and told himself off sternly. And with Harry firmly in mind, he jumped back into the fray… still glancing around, hoping for a glimpse of sparkling emerald eyes.

***** * ***   
**

Thankfully, Draco didn’t recognize any of the other Death Eaters. He nearly shuddered at the thought; the encounter with Bellatrix had been unpleasant enough. Well, he _had_ refused to join them, so he couldn’t really be surprised that a fair share of green light had been sent his way.

But then _he_ came through the portrait door, and Draco had a feeling he’d be seeing a lot more green light.

He must have been elsewhere in the Manor, maybe somewhere with Voldemort. It didn’t matter now though. What mattered was that he was here.

Lucius’ icy and glaring eyes swept the fight to meet Draco’s in an instant. The only sign that he had seen Draco was a slight incline of the head and a cruel, sneering curl of his lip.

Draco’s reaction was, suffice to say, quite different. His chest was burning, churning with pure loathing, and he gritted his teeth tightly. Once again, he was gripping his wand so strongly that he wondered how long it would be before he needed a new one. There was no hope of coherent thought as he focused on the man separated from him by all the people… the man he used to call his father.

Pushing aside someone, Draco began walking forwards, his feet making up their own mind. He didn’t take his eyes off Lucius. He was dimly aware of someone calling his name, but now that Draco thought about it, he couldn’t really hear anything. Only a dull rushing sound suffocating his ears.

Lucius raised a slender eyebrow when he saw that Draco was coming towards him. Draco had an intense desire to see fear in those malicious eyes, but no such emotion surfaced. Lucius just put on his trademark smirk and looked at Draco as if to say ‘How pathetic’. Draco’s anger grew.

It took an eternity to reach Lucius. When Draco finally stood in front of Lucius, at the entrance of the dungeons, his brain started to work again. He was remembering his vow that he had made, on the morning of his mother’s death being reported in the Prophet. He had vowed to get revenge on his father even if it cost him his life.

Draco’s heart still told him that Lucius needed to be punished for the ruthless murder. However, he knew that getting revenge was not the right thing to do. It was something Harry had taught him, probably without realizing. Bad people got what was coming to them, in the end, so there was no need to seek revenge yourself. And besides, Draco had more reason to live now than ever.

“Lucius,” Draco addressed him, his tone remarkably polite but colder than the dungeon air.

“Scum.” The word fell from Lucius’ lips easily, quietly. “You and your new found allies. Scum. Of course, I’m not entirely surprised that you fled to such people. I didn’t expect any more from you. It’s… amusing, to say the least.”

Lucius fixed Draco with a superior gaze, which fuelled his temper. He tried to stay calm, but the arrogant face in front of him sort of shattered this attempt.

“You bastard,” Draco hissed softly. He struggled to find the words. “I can’t believe – you – I can’t believe that you just left her there… didn’t even move her… and now you have the nerve – calling my… my _family_ scum… you are a bastard, and you are going to burn in hell with your old mate Voldemort!”

“If I was still your father, I would be ashamed of you!” Lucius’ raised his voice louder. “Luckily, I left that road a long time ago. Now I simply pity your pathetic life!”

“Better being around people you love than worshiping a crazed, power-hungry fool!”

Lucius’ eyes flashed, finally showing a morsel of the rage that Draco was feeling. He swiftly whipped out his wand and shot a red light towards Draco, who ducked – and the duel began.

This was the most physically demanding duel Draco had ever been a part of. He was constantly dodging curses, and forever sending them back – most of which only just missed them both.

“You won’t be able to keep this up,” Lucius’ sneered after a few minutes. “You know that I was taught by the Dark Lord himself.”

Draco bit his lip to keep himself quiet. He knew what his father was doing – he was trying to taunt him into such a rage that he got distracted… which was when Lucius would defeat him. No, this tactic would _not_ work on Draco… he couldn’t afford to lose any concentration.

Lucius didn’t say anything for a while, so their battle went on. Once or twice Draco caught a glimpse of flaming red hair, which, oddly, gave him confidence. It meant that either Ginny or Ron was still ok anyway. There was no sign of Harry. Or Hermione either. Mostly though, Draco glued his eyes onto Lucius’ face, watching his smirk grow.

“Don’t try and hide your fatigue. Wouldn’t you rather give in?” Lucius neatly leapt over a moaning-someone on the floor and landed with an arrogant flick of his wand. Draco side-stepped the green light and fought back harder, as an answer to Lucius’ question.

“I presume you enjoy living off these people then,” Lucius tried a minute later. “You enjoy depending on them. They’ll ruin you,” he warned Draco, although managing to sound uncaring. “I suppose you want to become a filthy blood-traitor like the Weasleys, associating with mudbloods and the like. Your worst fault, however,” Lucius paused for effect while sliding clear of Draco’s hex. “Is attaching yourself to the famous Harry Potter.”

Draco took a deep breath, trying to remember how he had ignored Bellatrix’s earlier slurs about Harry. However, all he could think of was Lucius’ triumphant face, knowing that he had gotten to Draco.

“Oh yes, Bellatrix told me all about you and Harry,” Lucius had adopted a sickly sweet tone. “In case you were wondering, she found out by having a nice chat with a relative who has a portrait in the dump you are living in. Seems they have a portrait in her house too. The perfect, little love story.” Lucius laughed, the sound booming around the dungeons. A ringing in Draco’s ears joined this.

“At first I thought she was mad; how could you sink so low? So I wondered why.” Lucius smiled evilly, a dark sparkle in his eyes. “Do you want to know what I concluded?”

Draco forced a stunning spell back at Lucius and screwed up his free hand into a fist, so tightly that he could feel his nails making grooves in his palm.

“You only went over to the Golden Boy’s side to survive. You think that he will triumph, and you’ll survive the war.” Lucius laughed lightly. “So sorry to disappoint… but there’s no chance of that. The Dark Lord has immense power. Your famous, half-blood fool doesn’t stand a chance. And therefore, neither do you.”

“Harry is going to win. And you know how I know?” Draco yelled, not caring that his nails were beginning to pierce his skin. “Good always defeats evil. It’s karma! So sorry to disappoint,” Draco said with a trace of a smirk.

Lucius said nothing for several moments, but then a smile grew on his face. The effect was that he looked quite crazy.

“You are his enemy. How did you so eloquently phrase it… ‘Good always defeats evil’. And as you say that the Boy-Who-Didn’t-Die is good… well, you see, this obviously tells us that dear Harry will defeat you.”

Draco felt ice slip into his stomach, and sent jinxes at Lucius with renewed anger. They were so close to the dungeons entrance now that Lucius was starting to step backwards through the portrait door.

“But if you feel so strongly about it… why don’t you prove it? Come on, Draco. Come and show me how much he’s worth to you.” Lucius flashed him a last smirk before turning, running back up the corridor they had walked down to get to the dungeons. Draco didn’t hesitate; he sprinted to the portrait door after Lucius.

‘Bad people got what was coming to them, in the end…’

And Draco would most certainly be there to watch.

***** * ***   
**

Harry could hear them – which wasn’t surprising, as the stone echoed everything. He sped up, running around a great cage door which had broken off. Turning the corner, Harry saw the fight, the Order members, the Death Eaters…

A relieved smile slid onto his face when he saw Ron, currently in a battle with an extremely fat Death Eater. And there was Ginny’s bright red hair, ducking behind a concrete pole. But… Harry scanned the crowd of people again. Where was Draco?

He made his way over to where Ron was, dodging stray jets of light. Ron succeeded in blasting his opponent halfway across the dungeon, and turned to Harry. His lips parted, but Harry could already read the question on his face.

“Don’t worry, Hermione’s gone back to headquarters. We found your dad and Remus.” Ron smiled thankfully too, and let out a long breath.

“Thank Merlin they’re alright.” He looked at the people surrounding them. “I reckon we’ve done quite well. We’ve pegged them back, anyway, so now it’s even numbers on both sides.”

Harry nodded, but he hadn’t really listened – he’d been wanting to ask something.

“Ron, where’s Draco?”

Ron closed his mouth on an unformed word and frowned in thought, looking back at the crowd.

“Um… I haven’t seen him for a while, actually. But hey,” Ron quickly added when he saw Harry’s face lose some colour. “I’m sure he’s fine, he’s small, he’ll be in there somewhere,” Ron jerked his head towards the fight. “Actually, the last time I saw him was when he was dueling Bellatrix Lestrange. But I just jumped over her before – she was totally knocked out. He must’ve moved on to fight someone else.”

Harry chewed his lip hard, fighting to replace his terror with calm thoughts. Harry tried to smile at him, to thank him, but he was sure it was more of a grimace. Well, at least Draco hadn’t met his downfall at the hands of the women who had killed his godfather…

He jumped slightly when Ron touched his shoulder.

“Don’t assume the worst, Harry. Maybe Ginny’ll know where he is.” Harry nodded, and with a sense of great unease, he headed back into the battle, ducking between people, making his way over to Ginny.

“Ginny!” Harry shouted, unable to keep the edge of alarm out of his tone. “Have you seen Draco?”

Ginny couldn’t answer straight away, because the one she was fighting had hit her with a force spell that sent her spinning towards someone else. She ducked behind a concrete slab and looked at him.

“Oh Harry,” she said, looking rather helpless. “He… well, Lucius Malfoy arrived.”

Harry stomach felt like there was a battle in there too, flipping horribly. He stumbled over a body that was bleeding severely… the blood forming a pool under his feet.

“I called out to him, but he couldn’t hear me, or just didn’t listen…” she looked behind Harry and stunned a Death Eater who had been sneaking up on him. “There was no way of getting over to him… I kept looking over to them, they were dueling for ages! But then, probably about ten or fifteen minutes ago, they… well, they left the dungeons. I don’t know where they went, I just saw them running out and up the corridor we came through.”

Ginny took a shuddering breath and desperately touched his shoulder, shaking him a little.

“Come on, Harry! We’ve got to –“

But the sentence died on her lips, for a bright light shone from just below Harry’s chin… a blinding green light…

“Draco,” Harry whispered. He pulled out the necklace with trembling fingers, staring at the shining dragon scales.

“Shit.” And Harry left Ginny, sprinting to the portrait, to Draco.

***** * ***   
**

Draco’s lungs were ripping, protesting. However, he didn’t stop running. Lucius was still visible – he was only a few metres ahead. He chased him all the way up the long corridor, until, rather abruptly, they reached the marble staircase. Lucius was already gracefully descending it, gliding over the marble stairs like a ghost. Draco stopped at the top and watched as Lucius walked into the middle of the Entrance Hall of the Malfoy Manor, and turned to face him.

“Doesn’t this bring back fond memories Draco?” he sneered quietly, holding his wand lazily in front of him. Draco didn’t speak. He started to walk down the marble staircase very slowly.

“But perhaps you have forgotten…” Draco took a few more steps. “Shall I enlighten you?” Still descending. “It was right here, in this exact spot that your mother was undoubtedly foolish.” Draco could see the lines of malice etched into Lucius’ face now. He kept walking down the stairs. “Your mother, you see, tried to _save_ you.” Draco’s fingers curled tighter around his wand, the other hand now slightly less clenched. “I was about to kill you, being the defiant and pathetic boy you are… but she got in my way, so I ended up killing _her_ instead. Foolish,” Lucius sneered. Draco was eye level with him now, both of their strong gazes sharp on the other. “Think you remember now?”

“I remember,” Draco said quietly, not blinking or looking away. “I remember how my mother loved me. I remember how she helped me get away from you and the Death Eaters. I remember how she died for me.”

“It was in vain, _Draco_ ,” Lucius drawled, drawing out his name. Draco reached the bottom of the stairs and took a few steps on the marble floor before stopping. Lucius now lowered his wand a fraction, to point directly at Draco’s chest.

“Your mother died, but it did no one any good. I am going to kill you soon,” Lucius paused to send Draco a malicious smirk. “You will be dead, like her, and she will have died in vain.”

“So kill me,” Draco suddenly said, with inspiration. He didn’t know what made him say it. “Kill me if you don’t care.”

“But that would only be half my fun! No, first I have a final test for you…” Lucius murmured a curse, but it wasn’t the killing curse…

Draco’s mind went blank, as though he was listening to some lovely music that he’d got lost in. Where was he? Well, it didn’t really matter… then Lucius’ voice interrupted in his head.

“ _You’re under my command now, boy. I want you to kill me.”_

Draco was so taken aback that for a moment, the happiness of the Imperious Curse dimmed. Why in Merlin’s name would Lucius order Draco to kill him?

“ _Kill me, Draco. I know you are too weak to do it. Go on, prove me wrong. Kill me. Get revenge!”_

Draco raised his wand, but another voice spoke.

“ _Don’t do it Draco. I don’t want you to become a murderer, and I know you don’t want to be one either. Please don’t avenge my death.”_

It was his mother. She was speaking to him! Giving his head a little shake, Draco decided he must be hearing things. He gripped his wand more firmly, pointed it at Lucius’ heart.

“ _Draco! Listen to me. Please, don’t kill your father. I know that he’s scum, but I thought that Harry had taught you something… he’ll get what he deserves, just not from you! Please!”_

He could hear Lucius’ voice now, yelling at him to do it, utter the killing curse… but the enormity of it all fell on Draco and he could see his mother in his mind. With a huge burst of strength, Draco wrenched his wand away to point at the ground, and Lucius had left his mind. The lovely music stopped playing, and his mother smiled and disappeared.

“So,” Lucius was breathing deeply. “You couldn’t do it. I hope you’re happy.”

And with a painstaking slowness, Lucius redirected his wand at Draco chest, smirked, and spoke.

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

***** * ***   
**

Harry could barely draw enough breath to keep running, let alone yell out Draco’s name, but amazingly, he managed to do both. Although he suspected his ‘yell’ was more of a gasp. He was full with fear; it wasn’t enough to just run, he needed Draco, right now, he needed to hold him and keep him safe and know that he was ok – he needed him now.

He kept running up the corridor, his legs ready to fall off and his lungs shredding. Was Draco alright? The necklace continued to shine green, so bright that it blurred Harry’s vision as he ran, the jewel bouncing around with his speed. He’d never sprinted so fast in his life. Surely if Draco was… dead… the necklace wouldn’t be shining?

Thankfully, he had reached the top of the marble staircase. Draco! Harry could see Draco! He was just beyond the bottom of the great marble staircase, facing Lucius Malfoy. The sight of Draco alive was nearly enough to make Harry’s knees lose feeling. He paused, coughing and trying to get some air into his lungs.

And then two deadly words were yelled into the Entrance Hall, sinister and poisonous.

Avada Kedavra.

Harry cried out as the Hall was splashed swiftly with green light. It was everywhere – it covered the marble staircase, the floor, the high ceiling… the light was so consuming that Harry couldn’t even see Draco or Lucius anymore. He stumbled down the stairs while shielding his eyes with his forearm. Losing his footing, Harry fell onto his knees (not that they could hold him much longer anyway) and slid down further.

The light around him achieved such a high intensity that he thought he couldn’t possibly hope to survive it, but then it vanished, as simply as someone flicking off a switch. Harry blinked and forced his eyes to overcome the temporary blindness. He focused on something beautiful: blonde hair splayed like an angel’s halo… and then choked when he realized what he was seeing.

Harry was a few stairs from the bottom of the marble staircase. Weakly, he hauled himself down them and collapsed next to the person… Draco.

A faint glow of green still encircled Draco, reflecting onto the marble floor. He was lying there beautifully sprawled. His wand had rolled slightly out of his grasp, his fingers slack. Harry pushed himself up to lean over Draco, and gazed into the porcelain face. The unblemished skin was pale and Draco’s lashes brushed the tops of his cheek bones.

Harry couldn’t speak or think. He reached out with one hand, softly stroking Draco’s jaw-line. He remembered how he had done that before, this afternoon, but _then_ … Draco had been warm. Now he was cold.

Tracing his fingers across Draco’s face, Harry reached his lips. They were perfectly set. He touched his own lips to Draco’s, but Draco was unresponsive. He could feel nothing.

Someone was coming; he could hear their running footsteps. However, Harry didn’t particularly care. Instead of looking up, he lowered himself down to curl into Draco’s side. Draco’s blonde hair tickled his face. Harry laid his head on Draco’s shoulder, feeling tears trail from his face into Draco’s cool neck.


	22. The End?

_Chapter 22: The End?_

*** * ***

Numb.

He was totally numb. He wasn’t aware of anything around him, and wasn’t sure if he wanted to be. He just wanted Draco. Only Draco.

Footsteps made the ground next to Harry’s head shudder slightly. They were heavy and fast, but Harry didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see who had interrupted his and Draco’s peace. He closed his eyes.

Harry thought he felt someone tugging at his shirt sleeve. Maybe he imagined it. Nope, there it was again. He huddled closer into Draco’s body, willing the cool skin to begin to warm. Anytime now, he couldn’t stay cold forever…

Another grab at his arm. Harry couldn’t summon any energy to swat the person away. His mind was made up; he simply was not going to move anywhere. A sudden searing pain smacked him in the face, and the unexpected shock of it woke him up a little. Blinking, he opened his eyes.

Red hair fell in front of his face, and it took him several seconds to focus on the owner of it.

“Harry! Speak to me.” Ron was looking straight into Harry’s eyes, but Harry felt as though he was in a dream. Ron’s blue eyes were mixed with his red hair, his whole face a washed stain-glass window.

“C’mon Harry, focus. Look at me,” he added sharply when Harry began to close his eyes again. This was all too much. He couldn’t do this.

There was a grappling noise, someone trying to get a hold of something. It echoed against the marble floor, and it sounded so odd that Harry opened his eyes again. Ron was still right in front of his face, but leaning over him. He was trying to pick up something. Harry went to sit up, but Ron was in the way. Seeming to notice that he was blocking Harry, Ron sat back a little, now holding Draco’s wrist and as still as Draco was.

What on earth was he doing? Harry blinked and now free to sit up a fraction. Ron seemed to be waiting for something, beginning to move his fingers slowly along Draco’s wrist.

And then it clicked. Of course! A pulse. That’s what Ron was doing. Harry hadn’t even thought of it. He held his breath, eyes never leaving Ron’s face, not daring to hope…

Something, like a wave, moved across Ron’s face. His eyes closed and a long breath escaped him. He let go of Draco’s wrist, letting it hit the floor.

“What?” Harry choked out with difficulty, voice scratching his throat. Afraid of the answer. But dying, dying to know.

Ron opened his eyes and looked straight at Harry.

“Harry, there’s a pulse. I felt it. Mal- I mean… Draco is alive.”

Harry returned Ron’s gaze, not blinking.

“Are y-you sure?”

Ron nodded.

There was no other way to describe it. Relief flooded him; his heart began beating again, united with Draco’s, a purpose to live. He sat up fully now and let out a deep breath, just like Ron had done. He lifted his hand to wipe his cheeks, only just realizing that tears were still escaping.

“He looks so… I don’t know.” This voice was female, and Harry jumped slightly. He looked up and saw Ginny, staring at Draco as though not really seeing him.

“We followed you,” Ron said, seeing Harry’s confused look. “We got round the corner and could only see green stuff. What… what happened?”

Harry shook his head, swallowing a returning lump in his throat. Ron seemed to understand. Wiping another tear away, Harry looked back at Draco.

To finish Ginny’s sentence, Draco looked so _dead_. He really did. There was no movement from any of his limbs, and he couldn’t even see his chest rising. Harry leant closer and took Draco’s wrist, needing to feel for himself. A few panicked seconds, and then the reassuring beat. Draco was alive.

“Harry?” Ron sounded tentative. “Um, we should to get him back to Grimmauld Place, or something…”

Harry swallowed again and shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said thickly. “How?”

Ron opened his mouth, searching for an answer, but was saved when they heard a gasp from the top of the staircase.

“Merlin, w-what happened? Are you alright?” Tonks came dashing down the steps, slipping on the second to last and crashing to the floor. If it hurt, she didn’t let on, but hurried over to them.

“Is he –“ she began, horrified, but Ron cut in.

“He’s alive, Tonks. We need to get him back to Grimmauld Place, my mum could help him –“

“Yes, yes, of course. Everyone hold onto each other.” Tonks pushed up her sleeves and grabbed Ginny’s hand. Harry wiped away new tears and held onto Draco’s hand so tightly that if he had been awake, he would certainly have no feeling in his fingers. Ron took his sister’s hand and gently nudged Harry’s hand into his own. Harry didn’t miss the gesture and gave Ron a tiny smile of thanks. Ron smiled back comfortingly.

“Ready?” Tonks closed her eyes and turned on the spot to apparate back to Grimmauld Place.

***** * ***   
**

It was like he was turning on the spot. Spinning and spinning. He was nowhere.

And all Draco could feel was green.

So his father had killed him… was this death? He wouldn’t be stuck in this cyclone wind forever, would he? Draco tried to open his eyes, but the shining green burnt. Nothing to do but wait.

Eventually, or maybe it was quite soon after, he fell onto something solid with a thump. Draco opened his eyes.

He was lying in the Entrance Hall of the Malfoy Manor, exactly as it had been before, except now there was no green light. For a panicked second, he thought that Lucius must be nearby, having merely pretended to kill him and was now about to strike. But then he realized that was silly, because he had heard the killing curse, and the green light had been there. But… why was he back in the Manor?

Draco pushed himself into a sitting position. The Hall around him was empty, and yet he didn’t feel alone. He felt a weird connection that felt like someone was holding onto him, but there definitely wasn’t anyone there. Shaking himself slightly, Draco turned to look around himself. And he quickly scrambled back a few inches.

Lucius Malfoy was lying flat on his back on the tiled floor, his eyes closed and very still. Draco didn’t think he could see his chest rising. What was Lucius doing here? Was this even real? Were they both dead, or both alive?

Draco forced his shaking legs to stand, and he stared as if transfixed at the man. A sudden fear gripped him and he turned to flee, but –

“Draco.”

Slowly turning around, Draco closed his eyes briefly at the sound of the familiar voice, but then opened them to look at his mother. Narcissa had appeared on the other side of Lucius, silent and small, but certainly not weak. As she walked nearer, Draco noticed a smile on her face behind her swinging blonde hair.

“Where am I?” he spoke the first thing that came to mind. Narcissa smiled again and cocked her head to one side.

“The Malfoy Manor, of course. But not in the present. That is to say… you’re not in your real body.”

“So I’m d-dead?” Draco stammered a little, feeling all too well the knife piercing his heart at the thought of leaving Harry alone, of not having said goodbye…

“No. Draco, you are not dead.” His mother took another step towards him and was right opposite him, right next to Lucius’ still body. Draco hesitated, then walked forwards so that he was closer to her. Now Lucius was the only thing in between them.

“But… I don’t understand.”

Narcissa nodded, and flicked her hair out of her face. Now that Draco came to think of it, she looked younger than when he had last seen her. Younger than when he had even known her, perhaps.

“Your father… Lucius,” she corrected when Draco flinched, “cast the Killing curse on you. Yes. But it did not kill you.”

“Why…?” Draco’s question faded on his lips as he lifted his hand to his neck. The cool chain of his necklace was welcoming to his touch, and he trailed his fingers down to the green jewel.

His mother nodded again.

“Your father could not kill you because… your love for Harry, and his love for you, was too strong.”

A piece of parchment swam into Draco’s memory. _When two people who share a special friendship or bond wear these necklaces, special powers become activated within the necklace’s jewel._ So this, this… miracle, must be one of those special powers.

“Those dragon scales are incredibly powerful, no one knows the full extent of those powers… but your love activated your necklace, and saved you.” His mother’s smile was no longer hidden. Draco smiled back, and absently fiddled with the jewel.

“But… then why am I here? And why is he – “ Draco looked down at Lucius. “Why is he here?”

“Lucius… is dead.”

Draco blinked and continued staring at him. In all truth, the only emotion he felt was relief. No sadness, not happiness, not even a vengeful glee… just relief. He would never have to worry about Lucius again, never have to try and hide from him or please him.

“Your necklace rebounded the curse. It flew back at its caster, and killed him.”

Narcissa began to walk around Lucius, also looking at him, and stopped when she was standing next to Draco. She placed a warm arm around Draco and closed her eyes. With a slight brush of air, Draco blinked, and Lucius was gone.

“Now,” his mother began, leading him away and over to the other side of the Entrance Hall. “As for why you are here… I needed to tell you that I am proud of you. I’m proud that you didn’t kill Lucius – obviously, there was no need. He basically killed himself. I also want you to know that I’ll always be there for you, even though you can’t see me or feel me. I’ll be there, watching over you – only when you need me.”

They stopped in front of a wide window, overlooking the Manor’s vast front lawns and path that led up to the house. The sky was a perfect mix of red and violet. Draco smiled at the sight, and waited for his mother to say the last thing she needed to.

“And finally… I am happy for you. You and Harry are just right for one another. I just wanted you to know that. I hope that you enjoy every second you have with each other.”

Draco could only nod. He cast his gaze out the window again. Out on the horizon, the sun was rapidly descending in the sky.

“It’s time for me to go back, isn’t it.” He looked back at Narcissa. She smiled again, this time laced with a touch of sorrow, and nodded.

“I love you Draco.” She reached out and hugged her son tightly. Draco laid his forehead on her shoulder and whispered,

“I love you too Mum.”

And as they held onto each other, the last part of the sun disappeared below the skyline, and both mother and son disappeared as well.

***** * ***   
**

Harry held his breath as they disappeared. The sensation of being squished only last seconds, and they all landed on solid ground.

“What – Harry! What’s going on? Is – Malfoy?” Harry blinked and looked up as Hermione’s voice reached him. They were all in the living room and Hermione was standing at the doorway, evidently having come from another room to see what the noise was. Ron let go of Harry’s hand and quickly stood up.

“Don’t worry, he’s alive, but we should get him to a bed. Do you know where mum is? She’ll be able to do something…” Ron dashed off out of the room. Hermione ran over to Harry and dropped to her knees.

“Oh Harry,” she said, her voice strained. Ginny looked up and locked gazes with Hermione. Tonks, however, spoke.

“Hermione, who else is here? Did you find the others?”

Hermione stood up and took a calming breath.

“We found Professor Lupin and Mr Weasley in a dungeon, Zeke and I brought them back here and Zeke is patching them up. And Kingsley managed to apparate back here too, barely conscious, but I think he’ll be alright. Is everyone else still fighting?”

“Yes, I’ll have to tell them that we’ve recovered all the prisoners,” Tonks said. “Ok, you guys get Draco to a bed, Ron will find Molly to have a look at him.” Muttering to herself, she left the room too.

Silence fell upon them; Hermione fixed Harry with a sympathetic gaze, while Ginny sighed and got to her knees, as if not wanting to leave Harry but wanting to do something.

A mass of thoughts were whizzing around Harry’s mind, making his head start to hurt. He couldn’t understand why Draco was so cold, if he was still alive. Maybe he wasn’t _in_ his body, so to speak. When, therefore, would he return to consciousness, to the present, to Harry? Would he return at all?

Harry closed his eyes and loosened his grip on Draco’s hand. Stroking the skin lightly, Harry swallowed and opened his eyes again. He looked down into Draco’s face. His lips and cheeks were still pale, his eyes still closed. Still perfect.

“C’mon,” Harry murmured. He draped Draco’s arm around his neck and then picked him up, just the way he had done when he had found Draco in the park in Surrey. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the new onset of tears and took a deep breath. He had to pull himself together, damn it, if he wanted to be there for Draco and help him get through this.

Ginny now stood up and Hermione ran ahead into the corridor. Ginny followed her, Harry and Draco bringing up the rear.

“Ron!” Harry heard Hermione call out and then a pair of quick footsteps answered.

“Where is he?” Mrs Weasley moved past Hermione and Ginny and her eyes fell on Draco. “Bring him this way, Harry dear.”

Harry shut all his scared and confused thoughts out as best he could, to concentrate on the task at hand. He followed Mrs Weasley, this time the others behind him, and they entered a room just off the main corridor, past the staircase.

Mrs Weasley motioned for Harry to place Draco on the small bed that was in there. He laid the blonde down gently, removing his arms from underneath him and then knelt on the ground next to the bed, as close to Draco as possible. Mrs Weasley was already leaning over Draco, checking his neck pulse and muttering spells. Harry bit his lip and took Draco’s cool hand in his own.

“Well, Mr Malfoy is merely unconscious; although why he won’t respond to the awakening spell, I don’t know. He seems in no way actually harmed, other than the normal bruises etc. I think we just need to wait until he wakes up,” Mrs Weasley finished.

Harry nodded and rubbed his thumb over Draco’s knuckles.

“When… when will that be?” Mrs Weasley’s expression softened at his quiet, almost pleading tone.

“I can’t say, Harry dear.” She gave him a sympathetic look, glanced momentarily at their touching hands, and smiled. “What I can say, however, is that he is very lucky to have you.” And without giving Harry time to do anything except let his jaw drop, Mrs Weasley turned and left the room.

Harry looked up at the others, who had moved over to the other side of the bed. He caught Ginny biting her lip as if holding back laughter, and Hermione’s hand concealing a broad smile. Rolling his eyes, Harry then looked at Ron with a pinch of nervousness, but relaxed when he saw the obvious amusement in his face.

“Merlin Harry,” Ron grinned. “No need to look like you’ve just been caught snitching something out of Filch’s office!” Harry nodded, allowing himself a reluctant smile. He now wriggled closer to Draco, confident that they wouldn’t feel uncomfortable with it.

“Harry,” Ginny began, her voice laced with the laughter that she was trying to hide. “Now that we know Draco is going to be okay… can I apologize for, er… _interrupting_ you before, when you were… _playing Quidditch_.”

Harry blushed so hard he could feel the heat radiating off his face. He glared up at Ginny as she started to giggle.

“Um… I don’t think I want to know.” Ron cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Oh Ron, I think even you would get hot under the collar if you’d seen what I did,” Ginny gasped through her giggling. Harry turned to Ron.

“Uh… well th-the thing is, heh, she’s er, exaggerating a bit…” he stuttered out. Ron gulped and went a little pale. If Harry hadn’t been feeling so mortified then he would be laughing too, at Ron’s expression, but he knew his own was not a lot better. “Oh hell,” he muttered, burying his face into Draco’s arm and the blankets. Hermione had now joined in Ginny’s giggling.

Draco’s skin was nice and cool against his flushed face. He felt his light heart sink a bit when he was reminded that Draco was still unconscious. Why wouldn’t he wake up?

Hang on.

His skin suddenly wasn’t all that cool against his face.

Draco was warming up.

Harry’s eyes flew open and he looked up so quickly that the other’s laughter died away. Harry inched closer to Draco’s face, looking down on him, waiting. No one dared to breathe.

And then Draco’s eyes fluttered open, and Harry launched himself on top of his boyfriend.

“Draco! You stupid prat, running off after your father, nearly getting yourself killed, worrying me sick!” Harry didn’t look away from Draco’s silver eyes, filled with sleepiness and confusion and bemusement. Draco blinked a couple of times, seeming to get over the shock of having Harry half-lying on him and smirked.

“Well, aren’t you going to kiss me?” He raised an eyebrow elegantly, and didn’t have to wait long before Harry’s lips collided with his.

The kiss was harder than Harry had intended it to be, and yet it was the perfect portrayal of the desperate worry he had been going through at the thought of losing Draco. Draco’s lips were firmly reassuring; even though he had only just woken up, he knew how Harry was feeling and was telling him that he was okay, that they’d be okay. It was a hard kiss, but it was gentle at the same time. Gentle and perfect.

Reluctantly, Harry pulled away, remembering that Ron, Hermione and Ginny were also there. He grinned sheepishly at them.

“Heh, sorry, got carried away.” Hermione and Ginny were smiling so much that their cheeks would be sore, and Ron looked torn between awkward and amused.

“Harry… could you get off me now?” Draco winced slightly through a smile and Harry leapt off him at once.

“We’re glad you’re okay Draco,” Hermione said to him, moving closer to the bed. Ginny nodded and seemed to be unable to talk. Draco nodded and gave the girls an assuring smile. The girls both hugged him quickly, and moved away towards the door.

“Um,” Ron started intelligently, as he now took a step closer. “Thanks for not dying on us… and man are your wrists skinny, you need to eat mate!”

Draco opened his mouth, but for once in his life failed to think of anything to say so just nodded. He raised his eyebrows at Harry, but Harry shook his head, trying not to laugh.

“Well, we’re going to let you two have some time alone,” grinned Ginny. “We’ll tell mum that you’re awake. She’ll not doubt make some dinner, but we’ll probably have to wait for everyone else to get back… so you guys will have a while.” And the three of them left the room, leaving Harry and Draco blissfully alone.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly, lying on his side next to the blonde. “The first thing I do when you wake up is yell at you!”

“I love you anyway,” Draco smiled and reached over and brushed Harry’s hair out of his eyes. He lightly traced Harry’s lightning bolt scar with his finger.

“I love you too.” Harry closed his eyes briefly at the touch. “I… I don’t know what I would have done if…”

“Well, I’m willing to bet your eyes would be a lot redder than they already are,” Draco moved his finger down to slide over Harry’s eyelids. Harry opened his eyes and smiled at Draco.

“But, I don’t understand. How are you not… dead?”

Draco frowned in thought for a moment.

“The reason why I didn’t wake up straight away is that I had this sort of… dream thing with my mother in it. And she told me why Lucius didn’t kill me. It was… our necklaces,” Draco recalled with slight surprise. He removed his hand from Harry’s face and touched the chain around Harry’s neck. He let his fingers run down and pick up the green teardrop jewel pendant. “My jewel meant that the curse was able to rebound at him. So… Lucius is dead, and I’m alive.”

“Wow,” Harry said finally. “Who knew that it was our lucky day when you persuaded me that we should get them.”

“Who knew it was also our lucky day when your rather large cousin beat me up in that park,” Draco replied. “I mean, I’m glad that he did. Otherwise, I would never have got together with you.”

And with a beautiful smile, Draco leaned over to capture Harry’s lips again.


	23. Epilogue

_Chapter 23: Epilogue_

*** * ***

The 1st of September dawned bright and sunny, with the occupants of number twelve, Grimmauld Place planning to rise early, have breakfast early and be ready to leave for King’s Cross Station early… well, planning to anyway.

Soap suds ran down a caramel torso. A groan of pleasure. Hands stroking.

“C’mon Draco, it can’t take you that long to – aaah – run some shampoo through my h-hair…” Harry ended with another contented sound and closed his eyes.

“You know you love it,” Draco smirked in Harry’s ear, massaging his scalp and letting his fingers run through Harry’s messy black locks.

“I know what else I’d love,” Harry replied, a grin evident in his voice, and turned to meet Draco’s lips in a hard kiss. Draco grinned while giving Harry many teasing kisses on the corners of his lips and pushed him under the shower faucet.

“You have to wash your shampoo out, and we’re already running late!” Draco thought for a moment that Harry had conceded, as he flicked his hair out of his eyes and let the shampoo run with the water. But, of course, Harry wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“So it won’t matter if we’re a little later,” he said, moving slowly closer. Draco couldn’t suppress a shiver as his thin resolve shattered. He pinned Harry against the shower wall and with familiar actions, eased himself into Harry.

“Mmm, blueberry,” he breathed as he lent his face against Harry’s sopping hair. Harry gave a laugh that quickly turned into a moan.

“Merlin Draco, hurry up…”

Draco teased Harry a little longer by moving his body gently, slightly, before he couldn’t wait any longer, and began moving faster and harder. Harry was panting. His fingers weaved in between Draco’s tightly. Draco moaned as he thrust into Harry, knowing he was close but wanting every last second to count.

They both came together and collapsed against the shower wall with laboured breathing. Simply letting the water run over them, still panting, and staring at each other… Draco smiled and lifted his hand to touch Harry’s neck.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Draco. But now we’re actually late.”

When Harry and Draco arrived in the kitchen, they found that they were not the only ones a little distracted and running late.

“Guys! Ew! I do not need to see my best friends doing things like that!” Harry screwed up his nose and shielded his eyes. Ron and Hermione jumped as if scalded, both turned pink and quickly moved from their previous, compromising position.

“Don’t worry Harry, I’m sure we can match them on that spectrum,” Draco grinned, sliding his arms around Harry’s waist and licking his ear.

“Hey, at least _we’re_ not so loud you can hear us from the first floor,” Ron countered, and laughed when Draco let go of Harry and flicked a cornflake at him.

“Settle down children,” a voice said from the doorway. Draco believed that it was Mrs Weasley for a moment but then an amused Ginny came into the kitchen, having done an impressive impersonation.

“So what if we’re a bit adventurous,” Draco said to Ron with mock indignation, and Harry groaned and covered his face with his hands. Draco and Ron looked at each other and laughed.

“It’s alright Harry, we all have different tastes,” Hermione tried to say with a straight face.

“Enough with the sex talk,” Harry said through his hands. Unfortunately, the real Mrs Weasley chose this moment to enter.

“Please save the sex for on the train, for Merlin’s sake, we’re running extremely late! Quick, you’ll have to make it a speedy breakfast!” And as soon as she’d entered she left, muttering something about ‘typical teenagers’.

“Oh Merlin, kill me now,” Harry banged his head on the table while the other four spluttered with laughter.

“Not a bad idea though, the sex I mean,” Draco added as an afterthought, and was rewarded with a piece of toast being thrown at him.

Eventually all five of them had eaten breakfast, and the chaos really began.

“Merlin, how am I supposed to fit this all into my trunk?”

“Ron! You stole my diary!”

“Oh no, don’t say I’ll have to leave some books behind…”

“I did not, Ginny!”

“Don’t crumple that Harry! It was expensive!”

“Did so, Ronald!”

“Ow! Draco, why did you leave your hair gel lying around, I just dislocated my toe!”

“Did not! Argh, don’t point your wand there! Okay, okay, I may have, er, borrowed it…”

“Do you want me to kiss it better?”

Draco finished sorting his clothes into piles and sat back for a moment. Harry skidded out of the bathroom, his hair all mussed and eyes wide.

“I can’t believe I’ve lost my toothbrush. I just had it this morning!”

“Harry, you’re so cute when you’re frazzled,” Draco smiled and stood up to kiss Harry. Harry smiled through the kiss and deepened it, but they were interrupted when Ron ran into the room.

“Hide me, Ginny’s after my blood! And get a room!”

“We are in a room, Weasley, you just ran into it,” Draco smirked. Ron rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, but froze and paled dramatically when a shriek of “Ronald Bilius Weasley!” reached them. Without another word he ducked into their bathroom.

Harry grinned and lent in to kiss Draco again but Ginny then burst into their room.

“Tell me where he is and no one gets hurt,” Ginny threatened with narrow eyes and a wand pointing at the boys finer parts.

“He’s in there,” Draco answered immediately, jerking his head to the bathroom.

“Malfoy, you sellout!”

“She was pointing her wand at my wand, you’d be scared for your life too!”

The boys tuned the fighting pair out and Draco laid his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“I wish I could have experienced sibling rivalry,” he said after a moment. “Although I suppose it is sort of like that at Hogwarts, although I definitely wouldn’t want to call Crabbe and Goyle my siblings.”

“Me too,” said Harry softly. He let out a cool breath into Draco’s neck, and then spoke again.

“What’s going to happen, you know, when we get there. Even on the train.”

“Well, I know who I’ll be sitting with on the train, or maybe sitting isn’t such an accurate description of what we’ll be doing…” Draco lifted his head and looked at Harry. “Hogwarts isn’t going to stop us Harry. Neither will Crabbe, or Goyle, or any other Slytherin. I won’t let it.”

“The Gryffindors will support me, no matter what they think of you,” Harry smiled.

“Of course, with that Gryffindor chivalry.” Draco nudged Harry playfully.

“But, I don’t want the Slytherins to give you a hard time,” Harry continued in a serious tone.

“It’s alright. They’re scared of me. Or they used to be. I’ll be able to handle them anyway. They won’t be able to try anything sinister.” Harry bit his lip.

“But that’s just it, with your – Lucius dead, maybe they won’t fear you anymore. What if…” Draco opened his mouth to reassure Harry, but Harry placed a finger his lips, determined to finish. “I won’t have them hurting you.”

“Well that’s enough protection for me,” Draco smiled, although Harry didn’t look too convinced. “No point in worrying about it now. We just have to face it as it comes.”

Harry didn’t say anything, but after a second kissed Draco. The kiss was warm and soft, and overwhelmingly full of protection, of care, of love that Draco felt his eyes burn a little. He knew he didn’t have to say it, Harry knew how he felt.

They broke apart and smiled at each other, foreheads pressed together. Content to just be. And then Ron stumbled out of the bathroom.

“Sorry to interrupt your moment, but I could use a little help here.” Harry turned to Ron and attempted to remove Ginny’s Bat Bogey Hex while Draco walked over to his bed.

“Harry, here’s your toothbrush,” Draco placed it in Harry’s trunk and grinned at Ginny as she strode out of the bathroom. “I admire your handiwork.”

“Thank you Draco.”

“Hey, Ginny it’s not funny. Well, it is. But those flappy things are starting to freak me out. They don’t suit Ron at all. C’mon, please remove it? For me?” Harry gave Ginny his best winning smile. Draco smirked at Ginny and began packing again.

“Oh no, you’re gonna have to beg harder than that, Mr Potter. Ronald has committed a serious crime.”

“Why, what do you have written in your diary? Is it that bad?” Harry ducked a jet of light from Ginny.

“Wait, hold it! This is serious!” Draco said, frantically looking around the room. “I can’t find my belt, my favourite belt!”

“Oh?” Harry raised an eyebrow, looking decidedly not innocent.

“Yes! Oh shit, I can’t lose that belt…” Draco muttered, not noticing Harry’s smirk.

“What would this belt happen to look like?”

“Silver, with a serpent on the buckle, and little gems at the front…”

“Oh, and makes a really nice clicky noise when you undo it…” Harry said dreamily.

“Too much information,” groaned Ron, with the Bat Bogey Hex still upon him.

“Yeah I’ve seen that belt today.” Harry hooked a finger under his shirt and lifted it so that Draco saw his belt on Harry, and a good inch of Harry’s delectable stomach.

“You little bitch,” Draco narrowed his eyes, but a smile curling his lips.

“You’ll have to come and get it,” Harry grinned.

A split second later they both took off, leaving Ginny and Ron to exchange bemused looks.

“Now Ronald, hand over my diary…”

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! I hope you enjoyed it. I do have fond memories of writing this fic - and it's amazing to see the HP fanfic community still going strong after all these years. Maybe one day my muse will return and write another HD fic... but for now, I think I'm happy with my contribution - and I just know there are endless talented writers out there (even you!) who will keep writing it for everyone <3


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